Hard Time
by The Helpless Romantic
Summary: Welcome to the House on the Hill. One of the most notorious Pokemon prisons of all time. Many a soul have entered these walls, some innocent, some not-so-innocent, but they all have a story to tell. What is yours? OC's being accepted.
1. Let's go to Prison

Hard Time

Ch.1

**Hello there party people, it is I your old friend the Helpless Romantic. I'm back from a **_**loooooooooooong **_**vacation, but hey, at least I brought a gift. This is my next and newest project story, it is honestly just ne trying out a new type of story-line. It will contain some characters from my most popular story **_**Somewhere in the Shadows **_**(which I am working on as well) but don't get too excited, it's not Bella and Flint. Still I hope everyone enjoys it…..I'm back baby! **

**Crazy today, the Helpless Romantic**

"I just don't like this place chief. It gives me the creeps."

"Relax Marret; it's only for a few minutes. I've been here hundreds of time, doing the exact same thing, nothing to worry about."

In the early evening of a cold autumn morning, two officers of the law stepped out of their squad car and unlocked the back of the holding cell. The presiding officer, the chief, was an experienced lady Zangoose who had indeed seen her fair share of criminals both malevolent and almost benign put away.

Her Wartortle acquaintance, Marret, was less experienced and far more jumpy. His worried mood was certainly not helped by the chill fall air that sent shivers down his spine…and of course it was impossible to feel too safe when you were visiting the House on the Hill.

"Wait, you've been _inside _the House chief?" Marret asked incredulously.

She stopped opening the back doors of the car. "Well…no, not actually…inside." She stumbled. "I mean, you've heard the rumors, right? Criminals go in, like our friend here, and shipments of supplies, but that's it. And of course even fewer get—" her explanation was cut off as the back doors were swung open suddenly and a figure burst out, making a run down the hill as fast as its awkward feet would carry it.

"Ah, cripes." The chief cursed under her breath. "Marret, you stay here I'll get the big guy." Without waiting for a response she bounded after the large figure. It was a one-sided race to be sure. The Zangoose, swift and light, while the Hydreigon fleeing was barely making any progress down the tall hill to the town of Pokemon below.

Of course under normal circumstances, the Hydreigon would have been flying off too fast to follow, but it's wings were bound together by large rings of stone, and as it turned around to face its pursuer, another pair of stone cuffs were shown choking the "mouths" of its hands.

It was all over very quickly. The Zangoose chief was standing on the Hydreigon's back, her claws pointing into the fugitive's back, not enough to draw blood, but enough to scare him. "Y-you can't send me in _there _copper, it's inhumane, it's downright _cruel_! Do you know what they do to Pokemon in there?"

"Well maybe you should have thought about that before you went and kidnapped those children Halen." The chief replied, hauling the large dragon up roughly. Halen stretched out both of his arms and opened them at the chief's face. There was a coughing sound and a small puff of smoke was released from the mouths.

The chief giggled as she pushed him ahead of her. "Nice try Halen, but didn't they tell you about these things?" she tugged on the stone cuffs on Halen's wings. "Ever-stone cuffs. They prevent the use of attacks, Ghost-fading, and in your case flying."

Halen growled as he was escorted back up to the top of the hill while Marret watched nervously. "You hurt?" he asked.

"Nah, he's fine. For now at least." The chief replied.

"I was talking about you."

"Well I would be more worried about Halen than me right now considering where he's going."

Cops and robber alike took a moment to stare up at the building in front of them. The Independent Corrective Facility for Felonious Persons or as it had been called since its opening: The House on the Hill. The most notorious prison in town that harbored any criminal unlucky enough to be sent there. From murderers to thieves, the great gates of the House opened for all. For getting into the House on the Hill was easy, getting out….well.

Over the years the House on the Hill had acquired several less than savory rumors associated with its "treatments". Rumors that had never been confirmed as no one, not even officers of the law, had seen what went on behind the dull gray walls. No one went in, and the only people that came out were in body bags, or the warden for the occasional press conference.

"Seriously. This place doesn't give you the heebie-jeebies?" Marret asked.

"It scares the heck outta me." Halen replied.

The chief straightened herself and tightened the grip on the convict's back cuffs. "Let just get this over with." Without pause she nudged Halen to the giant cast iron doors that towered above them all. Marret stayed a few paces behind until the chief glanced back at him. "I can't keep this guy steady and knock on the door lieutenant." She stated dryly.

"Oh uh-right. Sorry chief." The Wartortle scooted up to the doors and looked as small as a Caterpie next to them. Thankfully there was a single iron knocker on the door and just the right height for him. With apprehensive caution he gripped the large ring that dangled from a carved Entei's mouth and knocked on the door.

_KLANG, KLANG, KLANG _

The sound seemed to echo all though the stone prison and out into the ever growing night. Marret wringed his hands together, his eyes darting around restlessly, Halen literally trembled with fear, and even the chief who had "been here hundreds of times, doing the exact same thing" felt her pulse quicken as the doors to the House on the Hill creaked open.

Unlike usual doors they did not swing in or out, and despite their size they opened quickly. They parted away from each other, making a black column that opened and engulfed the three. Since the shadows was all there was to see, the first thing they noticed was the heat. It rolled out to meet them like a wave crashing over them and battling against the cold autumn air. For while the night was below comfortably cold, it was mere seconds after the doors creaked open that the heat engulfed them, blanketed them, and already beads of sweat began to accumulate on their bodies, though whether the sweat came from heat or fear they never questioned.

Steam from the internal warmth rose from the shadows and soon covered what little there was to see that night. Yet despite all of this all was unearthly quiet, until the sound of carful footsteps reached their ears. From the cloak of shadow and steam a figure emerged, released from the grasp of the House on the Hill. It was a tall and proud, Heatmor that regarded each of the three for only a moment, wordlessly.

Drawing forth on of its clawed hands it kept behind its back, the Heatmor revealed a small black pocket watch which it clicked open and gazed at through half-closed eyes before shutting it and returning its hand behind its back. "You are late." The Heatmor said to no one in particular.

The chief cleared her throat awkwardly. "Yes, well sorry about that Mr. Tinker, our friend here just decided—"

"_Warden_ Tinker, if you please," The Heatmor said unemotionally as the chief was cut off the second time that night, "and there is no need to explain yourself, but in the future I would like the deliveries to be punctual."

The Warden barley looked at his terrified "delivery" before, without any signal given or sound made, a pair of Durants scuttled out from the darkness and stood tightly at either of Halen's sides. They pinched their backs together, lifted the large dragon easily, and without a word began to carry him off into the doorway of the House.

Needless to say, the Hydreigon was not going peacefully. He squirmed and wriggled in the iron bugs' pinch, when that didn't work he resorted to begging. "No, no, please don't let them do it! Don't let them take me in here! No please-please-NOOOOoooo!" His body disappeared into the shadows and steam, and then his screaming eventually disappeared. Swallowed, it seemed, by the House on the Hill.

Both officers held their breath as they watched this, and the Warden too gave the spectacle the gift a brief glance, before he faced them again. "I think you will find that the dramatics attached to my facility are just that: dramatic." He assured them, though he did not seem to care what they thought either way. "I am sure we will be seeing each other again soon officer."

"Uh, y-yes, well…thank you Warden Tinker." The chief replied though only because she felt the need to break the silence.

"Accepted." The Warden replied and turned back, claws still behind his back. The shadows engulfed him, the steam covered him, and it wasn't until a few moments later that the chief and Marret realized they were once again starring at closed doors.

The cold wind rustled them again; comforting it seemed, after what they had witnessed. They turned and drove back down the hill wordlessly, and it wasn't until they were safe in the familiarity of the town's street that either one of them spoke.

"Well, you were right Marret." The chief said. The Wartortle looked at her and raised an eyebrow though she did not look at him. "Heebie-jeebies."

He, and the night wind, could do nothing but agree.

**End Ch. 1 **

**Well that's done. All right readers, here's the deal. This story is going to be special because I need your help to right it. "Well, what does that mean?" It means that this is a PUBLIC OC STORY! Yep, my very first! So if you like this story so far, and you maybe want to add a little something-something of your own, go ahead and go to the next chapter where you will find an OC Application Sheet. Until I start to get a lot in (which I honestly doubt will happen) there will be no time limit or limit to the number I will accept, however, no one will be allowed to send in more than 1 for the moment. **

**So, what are you waiting for? Let's make-a the magic people!**


	2. A Living Hell

Hard Time

Ch.2

The concept of Hell is never a pretty one, but that is okay because it is never something we must witness face-to-face. Like telling ghost stories at a campfire, it is something we speak of only because it scares is, but what happens when we find ourselves in those stories? What happens when we find Hell manifest? The House on the Hill was as close to a real hell as anyone could hope to get.

The fires of the House burned eternally, burned everywhere, made the entire prison glow in orange and red heat that always persisted in every nook and cranny of that Arceus-forsaken place. With the fires, came the machines. The walls of that place were covered with a multitude of pipes and cables, metal sheets and proofing, giant gears and pulleys that operated the lifts and dumbwaiters that dotted the place. All this coupled with the constant movement of the prison, the grinding of machinery and lifts as they scratched across the walls and floors, and the miasma of steam that found its way, crept its way more like, to the most unsavory parts of the House.

Yes all of this, the eternal heat, the mockery of ordered movement, and the breath of steam made the House seem less like a prison and more like the inside of some great beast. A gargantuan monstrosity of fire and iron that had swallowed all those inside long ago and amused itself in keeping them alive in its own body of living fire, metal veins, and breath of steam. A living Hell.

And like Hell, the House went deep. True the building itself was large, crowning the hill on which it stood in dull gray stone, but this was only what was seen on the outside, what the non-convicts saw and accepted as truth. To use an ironic metaphor: it was only the tip of the iceberg. The truth went so much deeper. Into the unmitigated depths of fire and shadow the House went, far down into the hill on which it stood. How far exactly the network of pipes and corridors and cells went few, if any, could have said. Except maybe for the man, the Heatmor, who had built it all. Who had, with the labor of his own clawed hands and possibly warped mind, had created Hell on earth.

Warden Tinker stood in his small box-shaped office, hands behind his back, looking out at his fiery world. Compared to the rest of the facility, the Warden's office was a paradise. The walls were a dull red and metal like most of the House, but on the ground was real carpet, a large wooden desk and two matching chairs also stood out. On the desk, a black pocket watch with matching chain was open and ticked away contently, muffled by the sound of machinery and the hiss of steam being released.

Below the cracked window he looked through, a small group of Pokemon lined up single file on a metal mesh platform and marched following the commands of a few guards and Durants assisting in the background. The group was not too large, nor too small. The Warden could make out the head of the Hydreigon from a few hours ago. He, along with a scant few of the other convicts in the group, look mortified…..but not all.

_Warden, the latest convicts are ready for processing. _A small but rough voice resonated in the Heatmor's head. However, the Warden did not seem surprised to hear the voice in his head, he didn't even turn from the window.

"I trust there were no difficulties Zenon?" he asked.

A Misdreavus faded through the nearby red wall and stopped, facing the Warden's back. He wore around his neck, beads of bight gold rather than the usual pink of his kind; it marked his rank of Head Guard of the House. His voice, which echoed through the Warden's brain, was filled with age, experience, and annoyance.

_No more than could be expected from a lot like this. _Zenon grumbled.

"Oh? Anything special about these deliveries?" the Warden asked without sounding too interested or looking away from the window.

_Neh, just the usual low-lifes and scumbags with the occasional troubled soul thrown in. _The old Misdreavus grumbled. _Nothing I'd be worried about. _

The Warden did not respond for a few moments, when he did his voice had taken an odd tone too its usual coolness. "Nothing you would be worried about." He mimicked and finally he turned from the window and faced Zenon. "Then it would seem you and I are worried about very different things." Zenon furrowed his small brow in question; the Warden beckoned him over to the window with a single large claw.

As he floated toward the window, Zenon became aware of more sounds over the usual cacophony of machines and steam. Sure enough as he reached the window, he saw down below an all-out brawl occurring. All eight of the guards were involved in it, three of them already suffering from serious wounds, two of them unconscious…make that three.

Surprisingly though, all the convicts were up against the side of the metal gating. Their Ever-stone cuffs were holding true on their arms, wings, and other appendages. Most were yelling, cheering, for the single figure that fought against the punches and kicks alone.

The Cacturne was obviously a skilled fighter, even without being able to use his moves and his arms bound in front of him by Ever-stone cuffs, he was handling his own against guards who were not held back by anything. He was quick and swift, dodging most of the attacks and physical contacts, sometimes using the large cuffs to slam against someone's head.

Zenon smiled and released a wheezing laugh. _Well that guy's got some spirit don't he? _

"Spirit, Zenon? Is that what you would call it?" the Warden asked obviously not amused. He went to his desk and delicately picked up the black pocket watch which he dangled in front of Zenon's face. "What is the key to running a facility like this Zenon?"

The Misdreavus grumbled angrily at being subject to such rookie treatment. _Oder, Warden Tinker. _

"Order, precisely, I couldn't have said it better myself." He replied happily, knowing full well he had given this same speech to Zenon and many other guards and convicts before. "This facility is like a clock, you see. There are countless parts inside it all doing different things at different times. Normally of course, such a thing would cause havoc and destruction, but with _order_ it can become a thing of beauty, of peace. However…" here he turned back toward the window and saw that the Cacturne convict was very close to defeating the last of the guards. "…all it takes is for a single worthless cog or spring to go against the planned movements before the order is ruined."

Warden Tinker snapped the black watch shut with a satisfyingly loud click. As if this were a signal from high above, the platform the convicts were on became swamped in a crowd of Durants. They scuttled past the cheering prisoners, leaving them in fearful silence as they then began to swarm over the Cacturne. The brave, bound soul was not going down without a fight, and he did manage to throw a few of the bugs off, but eventually sheer number over powered him. When the blanket of bugs cleared and they scurried off to some unseen dark places in the House, he was laying on the metal floor, green body covered in bite marks of varying sizes. He was brought to his feet none too gently by the very guards he had bruised, and shoved into the line of convicts that now continued to march without any word or complaint.

The Warden turned away from the window yet again and sat at his large desk. "I will go down and speak to this group myself, I think." He said.

_Suit yourself sir, _Zenon replied. _If that's all I still have some things I need to see to on the 3__rd__ wing. _

"Just one more thing, we do have the file on that Cacturne, yes?"

_Should have come in with the others this morning. _He said nodding toward the tall file cabinet near the corner of the office. _Taking a special interest in this one are you sir? _

"That will be all Zenon." The Warden replied coldly

With another grunt the Misdreavus faded back through the wall he had come from. Warden Tinker waited until he was sure Zenon was out of telepathic range before he went to the cabinet and removed several files. The one he paid the most attention too went like this.

**#15914- "Pins" Atticus Patrick **

**Crime: **Subject was brought in for disturbing the peace and destruction of public property in the town's public garden. Later it was found that the subject was involved in several cases involving hired violence, smuggling, and larceny.

**Personal Notes: **Subject appears to be well versed in etiquette, and takes much in way of pride and appearances. Classic case of narcissism, coupled with an inability to handle being seen as weak. Despite this the subject appears to be highly cultured and knowledgeable despite no formal education.

**Sentence: **"House Treatment"

Warden Tinker found himself smiling at that last part. A phrase he had often seen in the paperwork of convicts sent to his facility. "House Treatment" indeed. You could complain about the House's methods even if you really had no idea what went on inside, but you could not argue with results.

"He will have to be watched…very carefully. Him and the others." He stared at the other files on his desk. "Welcome to the House." He grinned.

**And there it is the next installment. To everyone who sent in an OC, thank you and they will be used, but I did warn you I probably wouldn't be able to use them right away. Don't worry though they will be making appearances very, very soon. I hope everyone is enjoying the story, and to those of you who have read **_**Somewhere in the Shadows**_**, please join me in welcoming back Pins! **

**Zenon is copyrighted by Snowsheba **

**The House and Tinker belong to Helpless Inc. (aka Me) **

**And Pokemon belongs to some pretty awesome Japanese people whose names I cannot spell.**


	3. Hearing Pins Drop

Hard Time

Ch.3

Pins marched with the others without a word. Actually, with the pain he was in, it was more like shuffling. There were gashed and cuts all over his body from his rumble with the Durants and it hurt all over to move, but he still kept his head held high as he moved in that most pitiable of ranks. Just as he had since being arrested, pins refused to show any kind of weakness.

He had of course, like everyone in the town far outside these metal walls, heard rumors and stories of the House on the Hill. Tales of gruesome torture, pits of fire where they threw inmates who were too weak or old to work, and many stories of ghosts and spirits of vengeance that haunted the cells and halls of the prison. These stories however, came from Pokémon who had never stepped foot inside the House, and any who could have confirmed them were safely locked away. He had passed them off as rumors and stories told to scare people, maybe even themselves, _"ghost stories told around the campfire". _But now, as he walked through a long dark corridor that seemed to be made entirely of crisscrossing piping, Pins could practically hear the wails and moans of the long dead.

The heat of the place was something that had been lost in the stories he heard. It was like walking around in a giant boiler for Arceus' sake! How could anyone, even guards, stand it? Being a Grass type certainly didn't help, coupled by the added weight of those damned cuffs Pins was truly dreading what the rest of the House was like.

Lost in his thoughts, he misplaced a step and ended up tripping and going down on his knees. Pain flooded through his legs and for a moment he knew he would not be able to get up again. He heard the other prisoners behind him halt and then the guards ordering the ones ahead to stop. "What's the holdup back there?" one of them called. Another walked up to Pins' place in line, his large steps echoing in the tunnel. "Well why am I not surprised?" he said with a cheerful murderous glint to his voice. "You just can't help but make things difficult for yourself can you?"

Pins cocked his head slightly to look up at him and gave him what he felt was a death stare. The guard was a large Abamasnow, which at first didn't seem too odd considering the usual size of their kind, but Pins quickly realized this wasn't the case. He was a good head taller than the usual Abamasnow, and loaded with more muscle than girth, he was a monster of a Pokémon. There was a large scar going across the beast's left eye, the eye itself was closed, and he had a brightly polished silver band around the upper part of his right arm. The other guards wore bronze colored bands and seemed to keep clear of this monster.

"You've caused enough trouble today don't you think?" the guard asked, "Come on get up…get up!" he began to roar. Without really waiting to see if he would in face get up, the Abamasnow delivered a powerful kick to his stomach. "Come on you worthless pin cushion! I said GET UP!"

He reared back his leg again to give another kick. Pins was now fully rolled on the ground, the uncomfortably warm steel ground, and braced himself for another blow. "Stop!" a rather meek voice broke out. Perhaps it was more because of the voice's meekness than its actual presence that made the guard pause mid-kick. All heads turned, Pins too albeit painfully, toward the back of the line where an Evee now stood attempting to make herself as small as possible.

Rather than immediately lash out at the poor girl, the Abamasnow guard seem temporarily stunned that so weak a Pokémon had spoken out against him. So shocked was Pins as well that for a moment he did not realize another body leaning over him. "Come on now, easy does it buddy." The body was that of a Cubone, who gave Pins a small smile as he helped hoist his much larger body up. Once on his knees, Pins was able to raise himself the rest of the way until he stood tall once again. The Cubone departed and returned to his place directly behind Pins before giving him a quick wink.

The Abamasnow meanwhile, had recovered from his shock and forgot the Evee in the back, his attention focused once again on Pins who he found standing, not having seen the aid he was given. The guard growled and came within spitting distance of Pins. He looked down with his one good eye and merely said, "Keep in line," lacing it with as much venom as he could before giving the signal to start moving again.

The miserable company marched on without incident until the tunnel ended and opened out into what seemed to be a metal cliff. The guards ushered the prisoners to the very edge of the cliff. Looking up Pins could see only the enormous metal wall in front of him continuing up into shadows and steam until it was out of view, below was a similar scene ending in a black pit. Again and filled with fear Pins remembered the stories of prisoners pushed into pits. It seemed however that they were not destined for a long fall, for soon from the wall in front of them a large platform came creaking down like the floor of an elevator, creating sparks and a loud creak. The elevator stopped and spanned the gap between where the prisoners stood at the edge of the cliff and the wall ahead. There was but one person on that platform, who stood with his claws behind his back and a smug look on his face.

"Warden in the wing!" the Abamasnow cried loudly. He and the other guards immediately stood at attention.

The Heatmor, and apparently Warden, waved a clawed hand dismissively. "Yes thank you Yetrius, as you were." Yetrius and the other guards relaxed only a small amount. The Warden stepped off the platform and stood in front of the lined up prisoners. He gave them each a customary glance before he started pacing in front of them. "I will keep this short." He began, "I am the Warden and you are convicts. That much is simple. You are all here for different reasons, though I truly do not care what they are. Some of you may feign innocence, some of you may even be innocent, most of you are guilty." He stopped right by Pins and looked at him from the corner of his droopy eye before continuing. "The rules here are very simple: you work and then you relax and then you work again. You are to obey all orders given by me or any of the guards. Failure to follow any of these rules will result in castigation. Do I make myself clear?"

"Everything except castigation." Pins smirked.

The Warden stopped in his pacing, we was a way past Pins by now. Many of the guards and inmates held back gasps and nearly flinched at the remark. The Warden merely turned around and calmly came to stand face-to-face with Pins who still smiled smugly. "Castigation. In this sense meaning chastisement, reprimands, penance, retribution, or _punishment_. Is that a bit clearer for you Atticus?" Being called by his real name wiped the smile right off the Cacturne's face. "Oh wait, you go by a sobriquet do you not? A nickname that is. _Pins, _is that not right?"

He looked Pins up and down. "I can see you have already acquired a small taste of my facility's firm hand." He said looking at the marks and scars on his body. Still standing by Pins he turned towards the other prisoners. "In a few moments the lift will take you down to wing 13, remember that everyone, you are all in wing 13. Tonight you will get a taste of how we run things in my facility and rest….tomorrow though you will work. If you have any question or concerns please do not hesitate to ask one of the senior guards, like Yetrius here." He nodded toward the Abamasnow who smirked evilly.

The Warden turned back toward Pins. "You however Atticus Pins, will be taken to the infirmary. You will need to be treated for you burns and injuries."

"I don't have any burns." Pins said.

No sooner had he finished the sentence did the Warden raise a single claw, quick as lightning and delicately pricked Pins' chest. The yellow claw began to glow orange and then red with heat. Steam came whistling out of the slots on the Warden's wrists. Pins felt the heat, the pain, burning into his body. This time no one called out, no one came to help him. Finally the pain from the burning added to his physical scarring from the Durants became too much for him, and Pins slowly sank away into the shadows of unconsciousness. The last thing he saw was the Warden standing over him returning his claw behind his back and smiling the exact smug smile Pins had given him.

Then

Only

Shadows.

**End of Chapter 3. **

**And another part bites the dust. So I managed to get a few OC's in this one, I'm sorry I really didn't do much in way of OC's I just wanted to start introducing Pins' side of the story. Don't worry, there will be several OC's introduced, explained, and given major roles in the next few parts. Still, I hope everyone is enjoying the story. **

**Pins, the Warden, and the House belong to me. **

**Yetrius comes to us from my new ally TheInkEater. **

**And Pokémon is the property of Pokémon. **


	4. Waking Up in a Wierd Place

Hard Time

Ch.4

The lady Espeon made sure to tread very carefully through the dark halls of the House and keep a respectable and comfortable distance behind the Houndoom guard escorting her. Normally Soulseeker prided herself on staying calm and quiet, what others may have called withdrawn and gloomy, but now she felt fear grip her heart. As an ex-convict herself, being sent to the House on the Hill was perhaps her greatest fear. _But I'm not here as a prisoner, _she reminded herself and attempted to assault her position logically. _The Warden called me here specifically for a reason, he wants to speak to me not lock me away. _But why? That was the question. Why would the Warden want to speak to a police consultant who specializes in hacking and document falsification? Logically it didn't make any sense.

"This is it." The Houndoom said as the small hallway they were in stopped at a large metal door. It was designed like the door of a submarine with even a large wheel in the center in lieu of a handle.

The guard turned to leave without a word. "Wait," Soulseeker called calmly, "should I knock to let him know I'm here? How do I even open this thing?"

"You don't need to knock or do anything." The Houndoom replied. "Warden already knows you're here." He walked off and added softly, "He knows where everyone is." She couldn't have guessed if he meant for her to hear that or not.

Her guide had not even completely disappeared down the hall before the metal wheel on the door began to spin, and with a loud creak the door swung open revealing a rather small and very boxy office. Soulseeker tried to look calm as she stepped past that threshold.

Surprisingly there was no one at the door or anywhere near it who could have opened it so quickly. Rather across the room was who Soulseeker could only assume was the Warden. He was not paying her any mind. With one hand he scribbled something on a piece of paper and with the other he held an open black pocket watch, though he was not looking at this either. She stepped a little farther into the room. "You are Miss Soulseeker, I presume?" he asked not looking or stopping his writing.

"I am." She said.

"Then you are on time. I appreciate that." At the same time he put the pen down, and clicked the pocket watch shut. She flinched back when she heard the door slam shut and the wheel turn, though again there was no one there to close it. The warden placed the watch on the desk and gestured to the two chairs in front of his desk. She sat in one awkwardly. The Warden folded his fingers together and rested his hands on the desk.

"I am told that you are a lady of high mind-set, Miss Soulseeker." he said. "And here I find myself in need of your most unambiguous talents."

She blinked a few times. "You…need my help?" she asked.

"To put it simply, yes." From some unseen drawer of his desk the Warden removed a folder and placed it on the desktop facing her. Marked in bright red ink were the words, _PERSONEL FILE. _She opened it using her psychic powers and flipped through some of the pages. "It would seem that there are some discrepancies concerning some particular convicts in my facility." The Warden continued while she leafed through them. "I need you help in amending those that I deem….mistakes."

Soulseeker looked up from the file. She understood now, "unambiguous talents" indeed! She closed the file. "You should know Warden, that certain times in my life are over, and I am sure you would not risk your reputation, much less that of your facility, by asking me to do anything illegal."

The Warden's eyes narrowed. "You and I both know that the darker parts of our past are things easily forgotten, but not easily hid, Miss Soulseeker."

"And just what does that mean?"

The Warden got up from his chair and approached the large window in his office, making his back face her. "You were quite talented in your field were you not Miss Soulseeker, even before you were…recruited by the police force. Document falsification, illegal hacking, at one point I believe you even attempted to hack the government's system, is that not right?"

Soulseeker did not like where the conversation was headed. "That part of my life is well known by my friends in the force, and I repeat, _over_."

"Is it though?" he asked turning around now. "I wonder just how much of you escapades are known in their entirety to your friends. Are you quite sure there is nothing you would not want to come to light?" he smiled smugly.

Though her face remained calm, inside Soulseeker was writhing in anger and angst. Finally though, she bowed her head. He had her, hook, line and sinker. "What do you want?" she asked.

The Warden reached over and scooted the closed file back toward her. "As I said, there are merely some _mistakes _that need to be amended. I am sure you will find no difficulties in finding them. Oh, and there is one more thing." He added, bringing out a much smaller folder, this one old and worn around the edges. "This particular convict is no longer with us, as such I see no reason for his files to exist." He put the old file on top of the other with much greater emphasis. "_Any _of his files. Do I make myself clear, Miss Soulseeker?"

"Crystal." She replied, void of any emotion, "But let me tell you Warden that this is not something that I will forget about any time soon."

"Oh, my dear, dear Miss Soulseeker," the Warden returned to his desk and picked up the pocket watch. He didn't open it, but ran the black chain through his claws. "You would be amazed at what people will forget if you wait long enough."

****

Pins drifted back into consciousness slowly, the darkness and shadows parted slowly like black curtains, but he did not like the stage that they showed. He was staring up at a large fluorescent light that hummed softly and glowed in yellow-white light. For just a second, Pins thought that he was in fact out of the House, now relaxing at some police waiting room or even in an old school. His hopes were diminished as he felt the familiar wave of heat hit him. True, it was not as bad as the warmth he'd felt in the tunnel or at the platform, in fact compared to it this was almost cool, but there was still a thickness to it, a feeling of desperation that clung to it. A mood that could only be created in the House.

Many seconds passed, and Pins could do nothing more than lie and stare up at that light. He didn't even have the energy to turn his head or move his fingers to find out just what he was laying on. He guessed it was some kind of hard table, metal no doubt, that had been covered by some kind of thin sheet or blanket. It really did not make it any more comfortable.

Pins heard light footsteps on metal and became aware of someone standing by him, though he still couldn't move to see who it was. He felt a cold, we cloth dabbing on the scars on his arms and legs. Water, sweet Arceus! He was starting to think nothing as merciful as water could exist in such an awful place. Was it any wonder then that Pins gasped aloud in sweet relief when he felt the sweet cooling relief?

Whoever it was that had been treating him, stopped when they heard him gasp. Pins would have screamed at them if he could have, but his mouth was dry and his throat was too sore to form any words. He heard water splashing and then light footsteps receding till once again the only sound he heard was the humming of the light above him. He was alone for the first time since he came to the House on the Hill. Truth be told, Pins wasn't used to being alone at all…he wasn't afraid of it, not at all, he was just used to having his partner near-by.

_Brick, _Pins thought to himself, _you have no idea how lucky you are not being in this place. What ever happened to you my friend? I can only imagine that you are doing better than me. It wouldn't be too hard. _

"Sweet Arceus, Emera wasn't lying!" a voice exclaimed from somewhere nearby. The face of an elderly Alakazam appeared above Pins' light. "Are you actually awake down there?"

_Either that or I'm dead and gone to Hell. _Or as it actually came out of Pins mouth: "Errgh deh hurr ehhh." In a dry raspy voice.

"Oh, goodness, of course! How long has it been since you've had a drink? Dr. Emerald do us a favor and get this man some water, and uh, the Sitruscide as well?" the Alakazam spoke to someone Pins could not see.

Soon another face appeared above him, this one belonging to a Gardevoir. The newcomer was oddly colored, the fittings going through its chest was green as were its eyes. The Gardevoir came close with a small cup and leaned in close to let Pins take a large, messy gulp. At last the fire in Pins throat was quenched. The cup left his lips and he gasped a mouth full of warm air before he released a satisfied, "ahh."

Though Pins still didn't have the energy to move, he could speak. His gaze went to the Gardevoir taking the cup away and depositing it in some unseen place. "Thanks doll face." He said.

The Gardevoir's brow furrowed angrily. Her hands came back up, but instead of a cup they held a large syringe filled a bright yellow liquid. Before Pins could react, not that he could have moved anyway, the needle was plunged into his chest, the liquid coursed through his veins. The pain was immediate but over quickly, and then suddenly he could move again.

"I'm a man, _doll fac_e." The Gardevoir said, before walking off.

The Alakazam chuckled embarrassingly. "You must forgive Dr. Emerald, normally he is as timid as a Pichu, but ah haha, he rather sensitive about his feminine appearance."

"You don't say." Pins said, feeling where the needle had gone into his chest. He looked and noticed there was now a sizeable scar on his chest, in the shape of a near perfect X. "What was that stuff?" he asked. "Anything I need to be worried about?"

"Oh, no, no, just some Sitruscide." Pins stared at him for a moment. "Medicine, you see, made from Sitrus berries. A treatment Emera discovered himself…with some funding from the Warden. Still the boy has quite a gift for medicine."

"So," Pins said softly, "I'm still in the House…" it was not a question.

The Alakazam nodded sadly. "Yes, we all are. Oh! How rude of me. I am Doctor Zigfried, and well, you've already met Doctor Emerald Grace. Now, let's see if we can't get you up."

With Zigfried's help, Pins found himself sitting up on what he had been correct to assume was a metal table. He looked around what Zigfried had called, "the Infirmary, and I do mean _The _Infirmary. The only one in the House." It looked almost like any other hospital on the outside, nearly out of place in a hell-hole like the House. The bed he was on was surrounded by a curtain that was currently drawn away so he could see the rows and rows of others each illuminated by a single fluorescent light.

"I must say, you must be quite a strong soul Atticus, to come out of such a terrible beating so quickly." Zigfried said.

"Call me 'Pins' Doc," he replied wincing internally at the mention of his name again, "no one calls me that."

"Pins, eh? Well it is not so unusual for criminals to have a different name. Usually though, the ones that do have something to hide, sometimes people to protect." Pins stared at Zigfried carefully. "Forgive me." Zigfried said with a smile. "As the resident psychiatrist, I have a tendency to analyze my patients very carefully."

"You know, I think I've just about had enough of people in this place picking at my body and my mind." Pins snapped. "How long have I been here?" he asked.

"Three days."

"I've been unconscious for three days?"

"You should have been for much longer than that!" Zigfried replied happily. "The surgery you had to have after that burn took Emera a full day and night, but he just really hates to see people in pain. But I digress," he looked Pins in the eyes, "you must have a strong body and psyche to come out of it so fast. It reminds me much of another patient we had here not too long ago. A very large fellow, not too bright, had been hit by a train, a _train! _It took Emera's entire cabinet of sedatives to knock him out, and do you know what he said just before then?" Pins shook his head lightly. "He said: 'I need to find my friend'. Incredible what the Pokémon mind focuses on in times of stress, isn't it?"

"Is this a therapy session Doc?" Pins asked getting annoyed.

"Do you think it is?" he asked with a smile.

At that moment, the Gardevoir returned. Dr. Emerald or Emera as Zigfried as called him. Despite having shoved a needle into his chest just a few minutes ago, Emerald looked very repentant. He approached Pins almost looking scared. "I'm sorry about earlier." He said to Pins, bowing his head respectively.

"Don't worry about it kid," Pins said, "if someone called me a girl I probably would've done something a lot worse than what you did."

Emera nodded again and smiled a small smile. Pins attempted to stand and felt fire burn the scar on his chest, it sent him sitting back down and clutching it with his hand. Zigfried watched this with great interest, but only Emera came to his aid. "You really shouldn't be trying to do too much. You need time to heal."

Pins shook him off. "Apparently I have been resting for three days; I think I've done enough. Besides," here he did rise and he looked directly at Zigfried, "I'm sure the Warden is missing shoving me into my cell. Am I right?"

Zigfried smiled and looked past him to Emera. "Well you heard the man Dr. Emerald," he said, "slap a bandage on him and send Atti—Pins, on his way."

"I will not send an injured man out there Doctor Zigfried! I will not have that on my conscience!"

While the two doctors were arguing, Pins had already made his way half-way through the Infirmary, his voice drew their attention back to him. "Then take solace, Dr. Emerald, that none of the blood in this place is on your conscience. That weight lies solely on the Warden's shoulders."

He turned back to face them. "Now who's escorting me to my cell?"

**End of Ch.4 **

**Yeah, Pins is pretty BA. Another chapter done, and to those of you who keep saying it, yes, I do update quickly :I Remember that when I don't do it for a couple of weeks. I kid! Anyway we got a few more OC's in and a look into the Warden's goings ons…s. In the next chapter there will be A LOT of OC's introduced and ones we have seen before that will be explored on a deeper level. Until then, **

**Crazy today, the Helpless Romantic **

**The Warden, Pins, and the House are all owned by me. **

**Emerald Grace comes to us from the far away lands of ForeverBlazing. **

**Zigfried is the creation of NightFall00 **

**And a very special shout out to the warped, disgusting mind of TheInkEater who just keeps helping me out on this thing. Thanks man, and seriously, when the story's done, get help.**


	5. Welcome to Our Sad Little Club

Hard Time

Ch.5

…**..hmm? Oh cripes, the readers are here already? I don't have anything prepared! I mean…just hang here for a second. *whispers* Sableye, where the hell is that opening message I asked you to put together? This is written on a napkin for cripes' sake! What am I supposed to do with this?**_** Sableye, sabe. **_**Improvise? Improvise…I can do that; I took acting classes for goodness sake. **

***Clears throat* Hello and welcome to the next installment of Hard Time…so let's see how this turns out. **_**Sableye! **_**Not you, you don't get to read it. **_**Sableye? **_**You know what you did. **

_Come to think of it, maybe I should have stayed in the Infirmary for another….couple of months. _This was Pins' only though as he was quite literally shoved through corridor after corridor by the very last living thing he ever wanted to see again.

"I hope you enjoyed you little vacation pin cushion," Yetrius chuckled and added a not so gentle shove to Pins' back, "cause you're about to find that the rest of the House on the Hill is not as hospitable as the place run by those wimps."

"Yeah, well, one of those wimps stabbed me in the chest, so I can honestly say I'm not too worried." Pins shot back, earning him a much harder shove and a brief meeting with the floor.

Pins was about to pick himself up when Yetrius grasped his Ever-stone cuffs and pulled him up with one massive hand. Pins hung eye-level with the Abamasnow, his feet not even touching the ground. "That smart mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble pin cushion." Yetrius poked the X scar on his chest hard enough to make Pins wince. "I'd have thought the Warden taught you that lesson."

He dropped Pins unceremoniously on the ground, but he landed on his feet and gave Yetrius a challenging look. The cyclops did not rise to the challenge though; instead he walked to Pins side to what looked like any other wall in the House. Yetrius, however, banged on the wall twice. A large slot in the wall opened with a loud clang from which the upper half of a Durant appeared. It clicked its large metal mandibles together and chittered. Yetrius merely raised his arm with the silver band on it in front of the sentinel's face. The bug disappeared and the slot closed, a second later, in the same place a large door scraped open.

Yetrius pushed Pins one final time through this doorway. Pins felt the sensation of being in a large open space before the guard twisted him around. Yetrius revealed a key which he used to unshackle Pins from his cuffs. As soon as the cuffs were off, Pins jumped back from the guard and raised his thorny arms pointing at the Abamasnow's body. Yetrius laughed deeply, "Go ahead champ, try it out." Pins did attempt an attack, but nothing happened.

"What did you do to me?" Pins asked, "The cuffs are off."

Yetrius laughed again. "You haven't even noticed it yet, have you? You were out for three days champ. Plenty of time for us to add that thing to your back." Pins immediately felt behind his back. His fingers came across something small, round, and cold. He attempted to pull it off, but could not. "That there is an Ever-charm, same stuff the cuffs are made of. Warden put it on there himself," he smirked and leaned closer to Pins, "and only the Warden can take it off again. Take the day there pin cushion, tomorrow you work."

And with that, the door Pins had been shoved through closed and Yetrius disappeared behind a thick metal wall. Pins was very close to running up to the wall and tearing it down with his bare hands, until he became aware of voices all around him and the feeling of being watched. He turned around and saw a very different kind of cell than what he'd been expecting.

The room he was in was enormous, seconded only to the massiveness of the entry hall he and the other prisoners had been brought through on the first day. It was also a perfect cube. The floor was flat until after a few feet it dropped down into a sunken square in the center of the room. He also couldn't help but notice that this was the first part of the House he'd seen without any piping on the walls, they were all smooth. Of course, the most obvious part of the room were the dozens other Pokémon.

As big as the room was, there were many groups of them, some large some small, gathered into some resemblance of clichés or suggestions of alliances sparsely spread throughout. Most were paying the newcomer no mind; a few were staring at him from across the way and whispering to each other. One familiar face was now running up to meet him. "Hey, there's the tough guy! Still alive too, I'll be dipped." The Cubone stood by the much taller Cacturne waving his little bone around victoriously. "We seriously thought the Warden had done you in buddy."

"You…you're the guy that helped me before right?" Pins asked.

"Yeah well that sounds like me don't it? Kenta Sykes at your service." He replied happily.

"Well you really saved my ass, so if anything I'm at your service." Pins bent down to shake Kenta's hand.

"Eh, don't give me none of that." He blushed but took the other guy's hand in greeting. "You know you're the talk of the wing right now, how you stood up to the Warden like that, ha! You got rocks buddy, I'll give you that. Well come on, the others are gonna be dying to meet ya." He started walking off toward a small gathering of Pokémon at the edge of the dip in the room.

Pins followed reluctantly as Kenta jumped down the edge of the small step and introduced him to the others. "This is the guy I was telling you about: Atticus Pins."

"Just Pins." He spat out from pure reflexes.

"You're the guy who back sassed the Warden, huh?" a Luxray asked with a playful smirk on his face. "I guess you're either the bravest guy here or the dumbest…maybe both. Either way I'm Grant Strident, but since most folks here don't give a Rattata's ass about names you can just call me Grant." He offered no hand to shake, in fact after his introduction, the Luxray laid his head down and seemed to go to sleep!

Kenta stepped in then. "Don't mind his royal Laziness over here; the guy can barely keep his eyes open half the time." He bent close to the sleeping cat's ear. "And the other half of the time he's flirting with anything that moves."

"You're one too talk there Casanova cranium." Grant shot back with his eyes still closed.

Kenta rolled his eyes and gestured to the next poor soul. "This is Jensen. Quiet guy, but he's been here for a while and I wouldn't want anyone else at my back in a fight." A Lucario sat crossed-legged on the floor, but stood to take Pins' hand.

"Nice to meet you." Jensen said.

"Likewise." Pins replied.

"So, you fancy yourself a tough guy, do you?" Jensen asked. "Let me guess, robbery? No, probably armed assault, right?"

Pins gave him a serious look. "Relax Pins, we're all brothers in chains here." Grant said creaking open a single eye. "There's no need for secrets in a place with so many. Take me for example: I made one too many advances on one too many ladies. They labeled me a public menace and sent me here."

"I can beat that." Kenta said proudly, "I'm a locksmith, see? Granddad taught me everything he knew. Well one day, I gotta _enter _a house that just so happened to be locked, the owner took something that belonged to me right? Well the cops catch me and call _me _a thief. Threw me in some understaffed low maintenance place, I broke outta there my first night. Should've done it a lot sooner though, because they caught me and sent me to the one place they could guarantee I wouldn't escape from: Our dear old House on the Hill. What about you Jensen?"

The Lucario returned to his cross legged position of the floor and stared off into space. "I take less pride in my story. An anonymous felon blackmailed my family, forcing me to rob several places…I ended up killing five innocent people and two officers…Well one day I decided I had enough. I quit right in the middle of a job, of course one of the culprits working with me at the time did not take too kindly to that. When I killed him, it was in self-defense…I did not fight when they finally came to take me away."

He turned and faced Pins with a somber expression. "I know the Warden gave you the same speech he gave all of us when we came here, and he's right. Some of us are innocent, some of us are not, but we're all here now and we must accept that. Those of us that can't…"

"End up like Gilroy." Grant finished for him. Neither of the older convicts elaborated on the name. "So what about you Pins? What's your story?"

Pins didn't answer. He might have, but at that moment something caught his eye. Across the sunken square where they sat, another familiar face lay not too far off. Her fur was covered in dark soot, and her eyes were sunken, but there was no mistaking the lime green scarf around her neck. It was the Eevee from before, the one whose scream had stopped Yetrius' kick. Without a word Pins stood and walked over to her. Kenta, Grant, and Jensen watched him leave without a word but with curious faces.

The Eevee didn't notice Pins until he had sat down next to her, a respectable distance away. She looked at him, and then quickly looked away, almost pretending he wasn't there. That was fine with him. Pins didn't look at her either; he just stared at the opposite wall like there was something interesting there to see. "Thanks for the other day," he said, "you saved me from a lot worse bruises."

"You're welcome." She replied softly still not looking at him.

"I'm Pins…though I guess you probably knew that already, after the performance the Warden and I gave." She did not respond, so he took the initiative. "And you are?"

"Hazel…Hazel Brook." She said looking at him from the corners of her eyes.

Pins nodded once. "Well Hazel, seeing as how I owe you and Kenta over there for saving my sorry hide, it would probably be best if you stuck around with us. That way I can pay you both back easier."

Hazel stared at him for a moment; he continued to stare at the wall. She smiled. "Makes sense to me."

"All right then." Pins got up and moved back toward the small group. Without a word or signal Hazel followed him and joined the others. "Guys, this is Hazel." Pins introduced her. "I got to keep an eye on her."

"Well hel-lo there." Grant purred and smiled.

Kenta intervened. "Hey back off you perv, you better sit over here by me sweet-cheeks and stay away from the cat."

Hazel gave an uncomfortable chuckle, Jensen smiled gently and went to separate Grant and Kenta from the poor girl. Pins himself turned away so they wouldn't see the small smile on his own face. _We may be stuck in here and we may be criminals, _Pins thought to himself, _but that doesn't mean we have to suffer alone. Maybe, just maybe, if we stick together, we can beat this place. _

Emerald was scribbling some important medical information on a clipboard when he heard a small ticking sound. He turned around and held back a scream when he saw the Warden step slowly out of the shadows and into the fluorescent light.

"Calm yourself Doctor Emerald." The Warden said clicking his pocket watch shut. "There is no need to be so fearful, it is only me."

_Somehow that doesn't make me feel better. _The Gardevoir thought. "W-warden Tinker, how may I provide you with succor this evening?" he asked nervously.

"I have business with Dr. Zigfried, is he still alive?" the Warden asked.

"Uh, don't you mean, 'Is he here'?"

The Warden gazed at the young doctor for a moment. "Not at all, I meant what I said. The Doctor could be here, and he could be dead which would make the whole reason for my coming to this wing inane. But if he is alive then no matter where he is I may at least locate him and speak to him."

"H-he is in his office resting." Emerald replied. "Alive the last time I checked."

"Convenient." The Warden stated simply as he walked off toward the office.

Warden Tinker opened the door to the small office of Dr. Zigfried in which there was only a large arm chair and a resting couch for patients with added straps in case they needed to be held down. The elder Alakazam was currently snoozing in the arm chair. The Heatmor stood in front of the arm chair and doctor and waited patiently, not saying a word.

"What a pleasant surprise Warden Tinker." The doctor said as he woke up. The tone of his voice implied that it was not a surprise at all and certainly not a pleasant one. "What brings you down from your high and mighty throne to this wing?"

"Is that a tone you are using with me Zigfried?" the Warden asked.

"Did you come here to debate speaking methods, or did you actually want something?"

It was a deadly move, but the Warden did not seem the least bit upset by it. "You conducted a full psycho-synthetic test on the convict that was down here today did you not?"

"I attempted one as you requested." The doctor replied.

"And?"

"This is an interesting case to say the least." He said. "I can confirm what the initial report said about the narcissistic tendencies and the desire to appear strong and in-control in all situations, but at the same time, I notice that he has a powerful psyche and an oddly kind soul. He is brave, strong, and of course, no one's fool." He smiled ever so slightly. "Reminds me of another patient from a few years back."

"That my dear doctor is precisely what worries me." The Warden said. "We cannot have a wound-up spring bouncing all around our ordered clock."

"I did what you asked me to."

"And now I am asking for more."

"And just what is that, _Warden?"_ the doctor asked his voice gaining venom.

The Warden approached the couch with hands behind his back. "Well, it's quite simple." He raised a single claw and streaked it across the couch slowly, making a long tear that much stuffing proceeded to escape out of like fluffy gore. "I need to know how to unwind him, and then," he nonchalantly brought the claw up to his face observing it like someone examining his nails, "I will _remove _the useless parts from the clock."

**End of Ch.5 **

**Okay, is it on? Are you sure? So it's recording right now? Great. Another chapter ended, I really enjoyed writing this one. I hope everyone liked the OC's that appeared and those who actually own the OC's enjoyed how I portrayed them. I must apologize to everyone; apparently I broke a rule of some kind with the chapter of this story that included an OC form. I am still taking OC's for the story, so if you want to submit one, let me know and I will PM you the application. Thanks for reading. **

**Crazy today, the Helpless Romantic **

**Well I think that went well. Didn't it go well? Especially since I just pulled the whole thing out of my—wait is that thing still on? I-I still see the green light. Oh cripes I think-*end transmission* **

**Pins, the Warden and the House belong to me. **

**Kenta Sykes is imaginative property of LinkHammer. **

**Grant Strident is a proud subsidiary of HowltheWolf. **

**Jensen Wahlberg is the sugar-induced creation of CaptainPrice **

**Hazel Brook comes to us from Hazelblossom. **


	6. Working Reunion

Hard Time

Ch.6

"Okay, hold on, I think I got it this time."

"That what you said six times ago Kenta."

"Well, I almost had it those six times too."

Pins was currently sitting hunched in the holding cell of wing 13. Kenta was engrossed in the Ever-charm on his back, after some goading from Pins, Kenta had been picking at the charm all day with his bone, seeing if he could pick the lock. It was not going too well.

"It's not going to work." Grant said with a smirk.

Kenta turned on him. "Hey, I've used this thing to crack open saves with locks smaller than a pin head and as complicated as a hedge maze!"

"But those are not the locks in the House on the Hill." Jensen replied from where he sat meditating.

"And no one with my skill has ever tried to pick the House's lock before." The Cubone replied. Pins felt small tugs and shoves and heard the sound of light clinking as Kenta moved the thin sharpened end of his bone around the small hole of the charm. "All right, this time…I think I got—"

Suddenly from the charms small hole, a great wave of fiery sparks erupted. The force of the eruption was great enough to send Pins flying forward, as if he was wearing a jetpack. With much screaming from the other inmates as most of them dodged the flying Cacturne, Pins screamed himself and closed his eyes as he flew. In the quickest of seconds, he felt the impact of a body.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" a voice commanded.

Pins opened his eyes after it became apparent that he was no longer careering like a ragdoll. His trip across the holding cell had apparently ended when he had pinned a very pissed Honchkrow to the wall. "Sorry guy, I was messing with my charm and—"

Pins was kicked to the floor unceremoniously by the Honchkrow's clawed foot. He rose immediately and faced the bird with as much defiance as he could muster. "Tell me something kid, do you want to die right here or should I do it somewhere else so the guards don't have a mess to clean up?" the Honchkrow asked, not showing any sign that he was joking.

"Big talk, coming from a walking feather duster." Pins said.

The Honchkrow's reaction was immediate, it closed the short distance between them almost instantly and brought it's talons up to rip him to shreds. Pins responded just as quickly, with a very prickly punch to the chest. By now a few of the inmates had caught on to what was going on, they began to slowly surround the two with chants of 'fight, fight, fight, fight'. The Honchkrow returned from the punch with another attempt to claw Pins face off. This time it was all Pins could do to try and block the scratches with his arms.

He succeeded in grabbing on of his challenger's feet and, with an impressive show of strength, groaned and swung the entire Pokémon's body away and into the metal wall. Pins smirked at his supposed victory, but it was not over. From close into the crowd of convicts enjoying this unexpected entertainment, came yet another mass of fury and feathers, diving straight for Pins. This time Pins could not react fast enough, and the beak of a Staraptor closed in on his face. Luckily for him though, when the beak was close to a foot away from his face, another hand reached out grabbed the beak and stopped the bird's movement.

The hand belonged to Jensen. "Enough of this Gifu," he told the Staraptor whose face was covered with the scars from previous battles. "This fight will not end well…for any of us." He gazed up at the high walls. Gifu, Pins, and the other inmates followed his gaze. High above them was a shroud of silver, made from possibly hundreds of Durants covering the ceiling and the higher parts of the walls. As one they looked down at the convicts, brutal indifference in their red eyes, sharpened mandibles raised ready to devour them all if need be. "Take Ichimi and let this go."

Every Pokémon in wing 13 held their breath as they looked their death in the eyes. Gifu, who could not speak as his mouth was gripped tightly, nodded his scarred head. Jensen released him and the two fighters eyed each other before Gifu walked away, parting the crowd of Pokémon as he passed. The Honchkrow, Ichimi, gave Pins a look that said 'this isn't over' and followed Gifu away, both trying to look as proud as possible. Slowly, carefully, the crowd of inmates dispersed as if they were afraid that movements too sudden make a spark that would send the swarm above them into a frenzy.

Soon, the sentinels of the House were satisfied that for now all was peaceful, and they scurried up the walls and into the dark corners, returning the parts of the House on the Hill that only they could reach. Kenta and Hazel soon came running up to their friends. "Pins!" Kenta cried. "Oh man, oh man, are you okay? I'm sorry, that thing must have some kind of fail-safe in it."

"I'm fine man; it was a pretty sweet even considering the destination." Pins smirked.

Hazel too camp up. "Y-you're sure you're okay?"

"Good enough to take on a Wailord." And that seemed good enough to her. Jensen was looking at him and frowning slightly. "Thanks Jensen, I guess I owe you one too. What's with those guys anyway?"

"Gifu and Ishimi are some of the worst offenders in the House." Jensen replied still frowning. "Ishimi was the biggest crime-lord in the city, a billionaire who ran an empire of corruption, greed, extortion, and torture. Gifu is probably worse. He's got several counts of murder under his belt, though he's probably guilty of hundreds. One or two more and they probably would have sent him to the 21st wing with the other murderers and serial killers."

He looked at Pins with deep disappointment. "I would have thought you had more restraint than them." He started to walk off.

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Pins called after him. "That guy went after me. You want to talk about restraint? I was defending myself!"

"And was there no way to defend yourself without slamming him into a wall?" Jensen cried, momentarily losing his cool. He took a moment to calm himself before continuing. "I am not saying you should have laid down and taken a hit, but in case you didn't notice, making something into a big deal brings down the wrath of the House." He said gesturing up at the ceiling. No Durants were visible now, but it was easy to hear scuttling across metal and chattering.

"The House has a tendency to bring out the worse in us Pins," Jensen continues, "I have seen what feelings like that can do on the outside of this damned place as well as inside. Do not lose yourself."

Pins was silent for a moment before he scoffed. "I don't know what you're saying Jensen, but I can tell you that I'll never be like those two piles of feathers. They don't have any style."

Jensen smiled slightly. "Well that's good to hear at least."

"Wonderful to see everyone making up and without serious injuries," Grant said as he joined them, "but it looks like we're about to go to work."

Sure enough, from across the cell, the wall parted and a few low rank guards appeared in the doorway, accompanied by a Misdreavus in gold pearls. "All right you lot, wing 13 gets the Furnace today. Let's go, let's go, make some movement." He said as all around the convicts reluctantly rose and lined up.

"I hate the Furnace." Hazel groaned softly.

"You get used to it." Grant encouraged her and brushed his tail against her.

****

"I've decided I hate the Furnace too." Pins said to no one in particular as he coughed up a cloud of black dust.

The Furnace was more like an endless corridor. From one of the walls there were curved holes where a healthy supply of coal always came pouring out of, they were placed every couple of feet along with metal grates on the opposite walls that all opened into the fiery inferno that was the Furnace. Convicts were constantly supplied to the Furnace making sure that it received coal 24/7. It left the air in the small hall musty and gray with coal dust and smoke. Guards were given masks to wear, while prisoners were expected to make due with simple bandanas tied around their face.

The worst part was the heat. A place called the Furnace wasn't exactly a cool paradise to experience. The guards made so no prisoner rested for too long before they went back to shoveling, throwing, kicking, or dropping coal into the fires. It was guaranteed that at least one convict would collapse before the day was through.

Pins wiped soot and sweat off his face and looked down the hall to his left. Hazel was a few spots away, kicking the coal in with her back legs. It was slow going for one so small, but she didn't quit, and every so often Grant, who was stationed next to her, would kick in a few pieces himself. Pins was grateful someone was looking out for her.

The work was halted for a moment when a Delibird only two spots to Pins' right. A guard came to check his pulse and when it was determined that he was not dead a pair of Durants came down the Furnace hall with a specialized gurney on their backs. They carried the Delibird off and the guard called for a replacement before ordering everyone back to work.

Pins returned to his simple process of shoveling, not really interested in the replacement, until he felt the metal floor quake a bit at the feel of giant steps. He turned now to look at the new face and nearly screamed in shock. There, not 20 feet away from him, was Brick! Alive and well! So happy was he to see his old friend again that it was a moment before the realization hit him. Brick was here, in the House on the Hill, just like him. Not so better off after all, and now that he looked at Bick closely, he saw that his body was bandaged in certain places, He also saw the Ever-charm looking small on one of the Slaking's massive arms.

Pins waited till he was sure the guards were far enough down the hall. "Brick!" He whispered quickly over the shoulder of the Hydreigon that separated them. "Brick! Hey, it's me!"

Brick turned and looked right at him. With the deliberate slowness that Pins had learned to love, a look of realization appeared on his face. "Piiiiins!" he cried in his booming voice. He probably would have run up and hugged him too if they had not been separated.

The Hydreigon by now had caught on to what was going on. "You two gotta be quiet! You're gonna get me in trouble."

"Look buddy—"

"My name's Halen." He interrupted Pins.

"Halen then, what say you trade spots with me huh?"

"Are we allowed to do that?"

"Of course! As long as the coal gets in there, no one cares who does it where."

"Then how 'bout you two care of my spot while I sit out?" Halen asked with a small grin.

A massive hand rested on his shoulder. "How 'bout you trade spots with Pins and I don't break your arms?"

In no time Pins and Brick were side by side, still shoveling coal to keep up appearances. "It's good to see you buddy." Pins said smiling genuinely.

"You too. They caught you didn't they? Back in the gardens?"

How that felt like an eternity ago. "Yeah, they did. The little guy beat me fair and square, what can I say?" Pins shrugged. "You?"

Brick also shrugged. "I chased the girl and got hit by a train." He explained nonchalantly.

"That was you? Are you okay?" Pins asked gesturing to the bandages on his body.

"Yeah, fine…these ain't from the train…" Bricks said oddly softly "…they got guys here, guys much bigger and tougher than me…and this one guy, they took me to a room a few days ago. Really nice room. And there was this guy sitin' at a desk, real creepy…asked a lot of question about you…then…I don't remember what happened."

Pins almost gulped. Why would the Warden want to talk to Brick? It could not have been a very stimulating conversation. "Pins," Brick continued to speak softly, "we're gonna get outta here right?"

Pins punched his companion's arm playfully and smirked half-heartedly. "Of course we are! Have I ever let you down before?" Brick did not smile back but nodded 'no' seriously. He had never let him down before. Pins looked down both ends of the hall. "All right buddy, first things first. We got to talk somewhere more private."

The two talked in whispers until a general plan was made. They went back to shoveling making sure not to saw another word to or look at each other. When a guard began making his way back toward them, Brick raised the shovel he was using and slammed it against his head. His massive body came down with a large echoing thud.

"Brick you idiot, you could have faked it." Pins groaned quietly. "Hey guard, we got a stiff over here!" he called louder.

The Grumpig guard hurried over and checked Brick's pulse in his neck. "Dropping like Beautiflies today." She groaned. "Poor fool might be too big for the gurney."

Pins made sure to sigh loud and dramatically. "Well if that's the case, I could always help get him to the Infirmary."

"Is that right?" the guard asked skeptically. "How noble of you. What about your post?"

"Well lucky for me, my good friend Halen here has offered to take over my spot for me." Pins replied.

Halen turned. "Wait, wha—"

"Quite the pal isn't he?" Pins asked.

The guard folded her arms and stared at him until the Durants arrived with the gurney. Surprisingly they had no trouble loading Brick's massive body unto it, and did not seem to mind the weight. For a moment Pins was afraid the whole thing was going to cave-in, until the guard smiled and nodded at the Durants as they began to move. "You better stick with them. They won't stop you themselves and none of the guards will bother with them."

"…Thanks." Pins said and looked back reluctantly before following the Durants out of the Furnace and into the House. "Out of the frying pan and into the fire."

Pins relished the air that was cooler by several degrees in the Infirmary. The Durants carried in Brick's unconscious body into the Infirmary and unto one of the metal beds. They left without a word and, not for the first time, Pins wondered just what the Durants were to the House and where they went.

Pins waited beside Brick's bedside for either of the doctors to show themselves. While he was doing this, he distinctly heard odd voices echoing softly in the room. He followed his ears, making his way past many hospital beds until he came to the only one that had its curtain drawn.

"…but what's in the know? It ain't in the knowing, no-how. So how then can we know we're in the know without knowing? Well you know what? I know. The truth is we can't know. Only when we know that we can't know will we be in the know. You know?"

"…Well that's very good. I think we're getting something from this." Pins recognized Zigfried's voice.

He pulled back the curtain very carefully, just enough to peek in. Unfortunately, he didn't get a good look at anything before the curtain flashed back all the way revealing Zigfried standing in front of him. "Oh, Mr. Pins. Back so soon? You don't look so worse for the wear, so what brings you here."

"Hey doc, I'm actually here because a friend of mine knocked…passed out. Just thought I heard something." Pins replied attempting to peer over Zigfried's shoulder.

"Oh, yes, that would be my latest patient." Zigfried said though still he blocked Pins' view. "I will warn you Pins, that while I do not accommodate secrets in my line of work, I would prefer that you not 'meet' this patient."

"Come on," Pins said, "how bad can it be?"

"Oh it could be bad; oh it could be very very bad. Horrible even, I could be mangled to death, isn't that an odd phrase? _Mangled to death_? Is that like opposed to mangled half-way to death? I suppose I could be that too. I could be ripped and shredded beyond all recognition yet still clinging to life on a shred of hope as thin as the entrails that dangle out of my body…or I could be naked. But I'm not. Or rather I suppose I am, are we all naked then?"

"It's not good." Zigfried said sounding very tired as he moved to allow Pins a view of the table.

Pins had seen that every bed in the Infirmary was equipped with straps to hold you down, but up until now he had never seen them used. A Marshtomp lay on the table, its neck, arms, and legs bound. Though its uncomfortable condition did nothing to lesson his spirit. In fact he smiled brightly and turned his head towards Pins as much as he could. There was however, a dirty white rag tied around his eyes, so Pins couldn't have said if he was really looking at him.

"Hello. Who are you?" he asked Pins brightly.

Pins looked at Zigfried who nodded. "I'm Pins. Who are you?"

He heard the doctor groan. "Did you have to ask him _that_?"

The Marshtomp had taken up the opportunity. "I am what I am and can be no more and no less. I am the Word and the Word is life the Word is law. All life is the law so says the Word, and the law says the Word is life, because it is the Word and the Word is the law. The Word, which I am, is all that it is and it is not at all what it isn't because that is the law and the law is the Word which is life which is law. The Word is the Word, and I am the Word which is life which is law which is all."

Pins gaped for a moment. "I'll just call you Word."

"I like that, yes I like that very much."

"All right, that's enough for today. We don't want to exert you." Zigfried ushered Pins out and closed the curtain.

"Do you think I'm going to fall asleep just because you close the curtain?" the Marshtomp called happily.

"No," Zigfried replied calmly, "I think it is because of the drugs I gave you five minutes ago. There was laughing from behind the curtain which slowly died and became light snoring. "It is because of cases like that that this place needs a head doctor as well as a body one." Zigfried said sadly. "Now what is it that we can do for your friend?"

Pins led the way back to Brick's bed where they found Emera already there and Brick already awake. "He's fine." Emera said. "Just a little bump on the noggin."

"Guess I got a little carried away." Brick said rubbing the back of his head.

"Ah, don't worry about it Brick, you're a terrible actor anyway so the best way was probably to give yourself brain damage."

"Thanks, I thought so." Brick replied oblivious to sarcasm.

They all shared a short lived moment of laughter that was politely interrupted, ended, and destroyed by all hell breaking loose. The Infirmary became infused with the sound of crashing and groaning metal, like hundreds of cars being crushed at the same time. The slightly cooler air rapidly became hotter than the Furnace itself. From the doorway came what sounded like nails being dragged across a chalkboard, but what appeared was the image of the Warden. His body glowed with heat, steam hissed out of the slits on his wrists and from his tail. His claws glowed red like iron metal in a kiln, and where they touched the floor and walls the metal actually melted.

Every word the Warden spoke was soft but laced with more malice than any mortal soul should have been able to feel. "The impudence…the audacity…the unmitigated GALL. How dare you? Do you really think so highly of yourself as to remove my prisoner, my _property _and abscond with it without my knowledge?" he came up slowly and put up two claws inches away from Pins neck. "And did you think I would not know? Did you think such insolence would go on without the most severe penance conceivable?"

"Is that the Tinker I hear outside?"

"Warden, calm down. Mr. Pins was just here making sure his friend was all right." Zigfried spoke calmly, firmly, but was clearly just as afraid as everyone else. "We were just about to send them back. Just calm down, and try to keep calm, keep the order."

"Order? Yes…order." The Warden calmed himself. He lowered his claws, the steam stopped coming, and slowly the room returned to a decent temperature. "Of course, order is important. How very unjust of me. Allow me to make it up to you." He faced Pins and Brick. "Both of you."

The straps connected to the bed Brick was on suddenly rippled and moved like living snakes and held Brick down tightly. From the doorway of the Infirmary four Durants came scuttling from the darkness. "I will have them escort you personally back to your wing Atticus Pins," The Warden said with his usual calm tone, "and see to it that your friend is _taken care of_."

The Durants massed upon him. Two gripped his legs in their mandibles, while the others went for his arms. "Warden, stop this!" Zigfried cried while Emera continued to hide behind him.

"Nonsense Doctor, I am returning order to my facility, as you requested." He replied.

"I want your word!" Pins screamed as loud as he could. The Warden held up a hand and the Durants stopped. "I want your word that you will bring Brick back alive!"

"And here I was thinking there was no honor amongst thieves." The Warden sighed. He looked from Pins to Brick and back again. "I owe you nothing you know."

"Less than that." Pins replied.

The Warden smiled. "Very well, how about this: I give you my word as Warden of the House on the Hill that I shall not, in any way, harm, hurt or maltreat the doctor's patient in any way, shape, or form, and I shall return him to you, just as you found him, to the 13th wing tomorrow. Satisfactory?"

Pins looked at Brick, the Slaking nodded at him, and Pins nodded to the Warden. The Durants carried him out of the Infirmary.

**End Ch.6 **

**That's right I'm not dead! I was just battling my way through alternate dimensions and playing chess with Cuthulu. Thanks a lot Lovecraft, you warped son of a witch! But you know this is what happens when you update at least once a day: things go fine and everyone says 'Oh wow you update fast!' then you miss a day and you feel terrible because everyone thinks you're dead…then you use that as an excuse to steal a train. Anyway, hope I made up for my lateness with this chapter. **

**Crazy today, the Helpless Romantic **

**The House, Warden, Pins, Brick © Helpless Inc.**

**Ichimi © Pokémonmaster111 **

**Gifu © Phil the Persona Guy **

**Word© The Space Between Spaces**


	7. They Both Fell

Hard Time

Ch.7

Kenta held up the bowl right into Pins' face. "Come on man, you got to eat something."

Pins forced the bowl down with one of his hands. "Firstly Kenta, I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine really. Second, even if I was hungry, I would rather eat Muk slime than this stuff."

"It's really not so bad." Grant said as he slurped everything in his bowl down in one go. "But if you're not going to eat it, then I suppose you wouldn't mind…" he reached towards the bowl not sitting on the floor in front of Pins, who handed it to him passively. His cell mate's concern was touching really, but he was fine. True he'd done little since he'd been thrown into the cell by the Durants except sit and stare at the part of the wall where he thought the door was. Actually that was all he'd done. Still he was fine. He just wanted to be ready for when Brick came.

"You really think the Warden will keep his word?" Hazel asked.

"In all the years I've been here, I can say that the Warden has never lied, not once. He is quite plain and truthful even, or more likely especially, when the truth is terrible." Jensen said as he sipped his soup. "He may not be a righteous man, but he does value the worth of a man based on his word."

"So remind me again who this guy is Pins?" Kenta asked.

"An old friend…my only friend I suppose. We were partners on the outside, got into a lot of trouble over the years, but I always managed to get us out. Brick, he's more of a physical kind of guy," Pins said with a smile, "while I was the brains of the outfit, so to speak."

"What did you do to get sent here?" Grant asked now that all the soup had been consumed.

"Something I promised I would never do." Pins replied seriously. Then with a smile he said. "I got caught."

The door opened.

Pins sprinted to his feet while the other convicts throughout the wing barley took notice to the metal banging. Yetrius was first in the doorway, and despite that Pins nearly ran up to the cyclops in order to see past him. By now Kenta, Hazel, Jensen, even Grant were all looking towards the door to see this Slaking they had heard so much about. Yetrius stepped aside with what seemed like deliberate slowness revealing—

"I mean, have you ever seriously thought about colors before? What are they? I mean, I know science says it's the whole light waves hitting our eye thing, but what does that even mean? That doesn't describe color; I don't even think you can describe color. How do you explain color to a blind man? And if that blind man was suddenly given sight would he see colors, or would the world just be in black and white to him? Would that mean that all colors are is what we're taught to see? It's an interesting premise. If I taught a child that red was purple and green was orange would a picture he paints of fruit really be any different than one we would paint? Not to him it wouldn't. It would be exactly what he believes it is, just like it would be what we believe it is. Is that where that seeing comes from? _Seeing is believing._ Perhaps it should actually be: _believing is seeing_."

Revealing a Marshtomp that stood behind him, blindfolded by a musty rag, smiling while he babbled.

"Arceus, do you ever shut up?" Yetrius cried. "We're here anyway, welcome to wing 13." Though there was no friendly greeting to the way he said it.

"Ah yes, thank you my good man." The Marshtomp said as he stepped confidently into the giant room apparently not hindered by lack of sight at all.

Pins now strode up to the much larger guard, all caution flown to the wind, hate written all over his face. He shoved the Marshtomp aside roughly to get at the Abamasnow. "What the hell is this?" he asked Yetrius, not looking at the new prisoner but gesturing at him.

"Easy pin cushion, he's a transfer. Might be a bit bent in the head, if you know what I mean, still must be a great deal smarter than you though." Yetrius said.

"What about another transfer?" Pins hissed. "A Slaking. From the Infirmary. He was sent there yesterday and he should be here now damn it!"

"Listen to you telling me all about what's going on." Yetrius chuckled mercilessly. "This is the only transfer I got for this wing champ, or any other for that matter. Not to mention, according to the records we don't have any Slaking in the House."

With that, Pins finally snapped. "I want to speak to the Warden." He said, then screaming. "I want to talk to that bastard! Where is he? You're here aren't you? You're listening now you fiery son of a bitch! I know you are. You're always listening!" His screaming of course attracted the attention of the other convicts in the wing. His friends were already coming up to stop his rampage, but Yetrius was first.

With one massive arm the Abamasnow clamped around Pins' neck, not enough to strangle or kill him, but enough to stop his screaming. Pins of course fought back against the grip and even attempted to pierce him with the needles on his body, all of which was useless. "I don't know who you think you are pin cushion," Yetrius growled, "thinking that you have the right to call down the Warden himself. Like he would put everything aside for the likes of—"

"Yetrius do let the poor boy go before you embarrass yourself any further."

Yetrius dropped Pins instantly and was unsurprised by what he saw in the doorway. "Warden in the wing!" he cried and stood at attention. The prisoners froze where they were, some out of fear, some out of respect, some out of reflex, and one because he'd just farted at the exact moment the entire cell went quiet.

"As you were you taciturn oaf." The Warden replied and Yetrius barley relaxed an inch.

"Sir, what are you doing here?" he asked.

"Really Yetrius, are you that thick?" the Warden asked. He turned to Pins. "Obviously I am here…because I _was _listening."

Pins had had his fill of ominousness and plays of fear in the House on the Hill. Even if he was afraid, he refused to be intimidated. "You gave me your word Warden." He said looking the Heatmor dead in the bored-looking eyes. "Where is Brick? You said—"

"I said that the Doctors' patient would be well cared for, and that I would convey him to the 13th wing exactly as you had found him." The Warden interrupted. "So…Take a look," he said waving a claw. Pins turned and saw the blindfolded Marshtomp sitting on the floor, his direction facing nothing and a smile on his face. "Is he not _exactly _the way you found him?" the Warden smirked.

Pins clenched his fists in righteous fury. "You tricked me." He growled.

"I outsmarted you." The Warden replied waving a single claw for emphasis. "There is quite the big dissimilarity between the two. My way has a certain, avant-garde to it."

"Where is Brick!" Pins screamed again.

"I do wish you would not shout Atticus. I do not know if you have noticed, but it tends to echo in here. To answer your question though," he did not smile or grin, but Pins felt like he was anyway, "there is no one in my facility by that name."

"Liar!"

"Prisoner!" the Warden screamed back causing almost everyone, Yetrius included to flinch black. "You see, I can do it too. You would be welcomed to look at the files yourself Atticus, but let me tell you what you would find: no mention, no indication, no allusion to, or ink smear resembling any Slaking to have entered my facility in the past 10 years. Certainly none by the appellation of, what was it? Brick?"

Something hotter than the House entered Pins. Something darker than the very depths of its murderous black corners and corridors. Something much stronger and more terrifying than anything the Warden could do to him. Unadulterated fury, hate, desire to kill. To rip off the devil's own claws. For isn't that what was standing before him now? It was hard to imagine a more perfect embodiment of evil and immorality in this or any other world.

But Pins did not act on this new homicidal rage running through his veins, rather he inhaled deeply and behind him, the convicts prepared for what they thought would be a blood bath. Even Yetrius stiffened and prepared himself for what he thought was coming. Instead, Pins turned and walked away with every air of a defeated man as one could have.

He passed the Marshtomp who still stared at nothing and smiled, a blind man, looking at colors. He did not say a word to Kenta or Hazel who tried to stop him, to talk to him, anything! Jensen and Grant did not try and stop him as he passed. All the convicts stared as Pins simply walked to the corner of the cell, as far from anyone as he could get, and sat. His face, his body, maybe even his soul, void, empty and without any emotion.

The Warden watched this but said nothing before he walked away steadily, his hands behind his back. Yetrius did glance back and gave a single unimpressed snort before he passed back behind the doorway.

The door seemed to close with auxiliary slowness, as if too add something final, something absolute to its closing. And indeed it seemed to do just that as, merely inches before it fully closed, the sliver of light left passed over Pins' face in the corner. It practically taunted him with that thin thread of light, of hope, but without a word of care he let that thread dim and dim, get thinner and thinner. And when the door finally closed that thread snapped and the light was extinguished, leaving Pins in to continue falling into the dark.

** 12 Hours Ago **

The halls and corridors of the House on the Hill welcomed Warden Tinker, embraced him in an encirclement of fire and shadow. He continued walking till he came to the Entry Hall in all its giant, magnificent glory. Here he turned toward where the elevator would be waiting. As he suspected…as he _knew_, there was already someone there. Two someone's in fact.

_I wouldn't worry too much about it big guy. The doc's probably had you under a lot of sedatives and you were seeing things is all. _Zenon's voice echoed through his head, though the Misdreavus spoke to someone else.

"They never gave me anything until after Pins left." Another voice, much deeper spoke. "I'm telling you, those straps moved and held me down without anyone doing nothing, like they were alive! And then those bugs showed up and got Pins without anyone saying anything. It was like the fire guy was controlling them all, like he was controlling everything!"

_Neh, the Warden just has an uncomfortable effect on people. _

"Is that so Zenon?" the Warden asked aloud startling the two.

Zenon was floating next to Brick who was bound by two separate pairs of Ever-stone cuffs. Both were waiting at the edge of the large metal drop off waiting on the elevator.

_Warden, I was just taking Bri—the convict to wing 13. _Zenon's telepathic voice resonated.

"My, how accommodating of you Zenon," the Warden said, "but I will be the one accompanying this delivery."

Brick gulped. _T-that really isn't necessary sir. _

"Oh it's more than necessary, it's obligatory." The Warden replied. "Besides Zenon, you should be dealing with the riot breaking out in wing 18."

_There's a riot in wing 18? _Zenon asked suspiciously.

"There is now." The Warden said slowly and carefully making sure the Misdreavus understood.

Zenon merely nodded. Once to the Warden as a sign of understanding, and once to Brick in apology or perhaps pity. Then he floated over to the wall and faded into it. The Warden did not look at the wall, but he spoke as if someone were still there. "Zenon, this is not the 18th wing. I do hope you were not thinking of spying on us?"

No reply came, verbally, physically, or telepathically, but after a few moments the Warden seemed satisfied. He came and stood wordlessly next to Brick facing out at the wall on the opposite side of the great pit beneath them.

Brick was a big guy, and by his own logic that meant that he was a tough guy. This simple way of thinking had governed nearly his entire life, even when he had become partners with Pins. Because he was big, because he was tough, there was literally nothing he need be afraid of. Until he came to the House on the Hill. Until he had seen what the Warden had done in the Infirmary. Until he knew what some Pokémon, this Pokémon in particular was capable of. Now, though the Heatmor barley came up to Brick's shoulder he felt something he never had before. Fear. He was deeply, deathly afraid of the Warden.

"I will say this much, it truly is not fair." The Warden suddenly spoke up.

"W-what isn't?" Brick asked.

"Oh, just this whole thing really." He replied waving a claw. "I really do not like it all, but it is just the way it has to be. Surely you can appreciate that can you not?"

"I…don't understand."

"Well to put it simply, it is like this." The Warden began by pulling out a black pocket watch. He clicked it open and held it in front of his face so that Brick could see the clock's face. Somehow, despite the noise of mechanisms and the hiss of steam, the ticking of the clock was loud and echoed. "This facility is like a clock you see? There are many different parts, thousands even, some large, some small but all have a job to do. And if every single piece in the clock, every cog, every spring or wheel or pendulum or wheel, if they all do their job according to a certain order, a certain _law _if you will, well then everything is fine and dandy and the clock keeps ticking."

"However, if just a single piece, a single wound up spring or rusty gear or one unsavory, churlish, maddening, worthless little pin goes against that order…well then it could affect the other pieces you see. Cause them to make mistakes, to harm themselves, to _question the law_, and then the whole clock goes to hell." He clicked the watch shut and turned back towards the wall far away."

"So you can cognize the easiest solution, can you not Mr. Brick?" he asked and paused in his speech meaning he really did want Brick to answer.

"Fix…the clock?" Brick guessed.

"Exactly and precisely, and the best way to do that is to get rid of that one piece that started all the trouble in the first place. Sometimes though…it is not that simple. Sometimes it may not be as simple as wrenching out that one single piece and destroying him. He could be very stupid and he could be very brave, which means that all your wrenching and prying and slicing and cutting will be for naught. In those rare cases, Mr. Brick, the best choice may actually be to remove the pieces surrounding that troublesome piece, weaken him by not giving him anything to attach too, you see? And there-in lies the pity."

"The pity that I cannot let you live."

Quicker, much quicker, than Brick could ever hope to react, the Warden reached behind his back and pushed not necessarily hard, but it was enough to send Brick tipping over the edge of the cliff. He screamed, and just when he was at a 45 degree angle he stopped falling. The Warden had caught a fist full of his hair and was holding him up with a single clawed hand.

"I wanted you to see it coming you see?" the Warden said calmly. "It would be too cruel to take you completely by surprise like that and end it all."

"You-you can't kill me!" Brick cried, yes literally cried with tears going down his face and dripping off into that unending, unholy darkness. "You're a warden, a good-guy! This-this is against the law for Arceus' sake! It's murder!"

"You dare speak to me of law? Of murder?" the Warden said not raising his voice. "You just do not get it do you? None of you filth do. You were right, I am a 'good guy', though I would not be so simple minded with it. I am the voice of reason, of justice, of order. I can do no wrong. It is you; it is all of you that threaten that order that peace. You sinners and scum are a plague upon the world and that is why you come to me."

"Please, Arecus, please. No, no no." Brick continued to cry.

"You pray to Arceus. They all pray to Arceus at the end. Why? Does Arcues hold their life literally in the palm of his hand? I am the one threatening to kill them. Should they not pray to me? But I digress, here I am the law, I keep the order and the peace. Down here, I am Arceus. Down here I am God."

He loosened his grip on Brick's hair causing him to slip a few more inches. "And anyone who threatens that order, even that courageously insolent friend of yours. I must…cast…down."

"You're wrong." Brick spoke up softly, tears still flowing. "Pins is strong, stronger than me and stronger than you. He'll bring your whole clock crashing down."

The Warden was quiet for a moment, when he spoke again it was wistfully, as if he was waking from a dream. "There is the pity again. Whether you are right or I am…you will not be around to see it." And then he let go.

And Brick fell into the waiting darkness.

**End of Ch.7 **

**Yep, another chapter done. I apologies for the rather…dark parts of this chapter, considering everything I actually went back and changed the rating for this story. I wish I could say things get better, though they do; it's not for a while. Still every good story has its sad parts…right? In any case… **

**Crazy today, the Helpless Romantic**


	8. The Raven and the Writing Desk

Hard Time

Ch.8

The days passed by in a haze, mercifully dull and uniform. Pins went through the motions of your average day in a psychotic prison. He worked wordlessly, shoveling coal in the Furnace, hammering away in the Kiln, or being part of the living conveyor belt that moved boxes of supplies. He ate the food that was given to him completely and when he had down time in the cell he simply sat in his dark corner and waited out the days.

Kenta and Hazel made several attempts to break him out of his depressed stupor to no avail. Jensen and Grant merely accepted that he needed some time to himself, to sort out his problems and learn to accept his new fate in the House. The only one who did not stop in his attempt to break the cloud of hopelessness that hung above Pins' head was—

"And then there's jazz music. A bit too rambunctious for my taste, but suited for certain moments. Still though of all music that probably have caused some serious injuries over the years I think jazz must be high on the list…no doubt right up there with polka."

The others had not really had a chance to warm up to their latest addition. The blindfolded Marshtomp spent all his time sitting a short distance from Pins and talking, for hours and hours, about nothing really. Even when the convicts went to work he made sure not to be too far from Pins so he could continue his nonsensical speeches. Pins beared it quietly, without ever interrupting or arguing.

In the first couple of days, after Grant made the mistake of asking the new guest his name and half an hour of listening to "the Word is the law, the law is life" they took to calling him Word.

In this way the days in the House on the Hill passed, one after the other. Pins did not bother to count or even think about how long he'd been there. Time simply passed, minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day, all of it ordered.

Like clockwork.

But as anyone could say, order can only last so long before chaos notices. The convicts of wing 13 had just returned from a day's work in the Furnace, Pins only just now settling into his dark corner, when the doors creaked open. A pair of Durants came in first followed by a Blaziken in Ever-stone cuffs and lastly a Gengar guard with a silver band on its arm and the terrifyingly familiar mountain that was Yetrius. "I'm telling you Yetrius, this one is a hand-full." the Gengar was saying as the Durants escorted the prisoner inside. "Been trouble since she got here, putting all kinds of nasty thoughts into prisoner's heads. Got sent to Solitary Confinement three weeks ago for staring a riot in the wing."

Yetrius grunted as he unlocked the cuffs bounding the Blaziken. "We got no shortage of trouble makers here in wing 13 Patel." He looked triumphantly at the Cacturne in the corner who simply stared out into space. "We break 'em all eventually." With hearty laughs Yetrius and Patel left the Blaziken in the cell.

She looked no worse for the wear, the lady Blaziken, taking in her surroundings calmly. No doubt she was used to the inside of the House by now. She was darker than the normal ones of her kind and had no spurs oddly enough. She completed her initial scoping of the cell, her gaze flitting over most of the inmates who gave her just as much attention as she gave them, until she stopped at the dark corner of the cell that for some reason a blindfolded Marshtomp was talking to.

Pins barley registered another presence by him other that Word. He was shrugged into the corner and Word was sitting a few feet away chatting on about the way a light bulb worked. He took a second to look at the Blaziken that was now standing beside Word listening with her head tilted.

"So what that leads us to wonder then, is just _how _they managed to fit all that light inside such a tiny— oh, hello." Word said, raising his head and smiling at the newcomer.

"How can you see me if you're blind folded?"

"Tell me something: do you know how a raven is like a writing desk?"

"No." she said.

Word smiled and patted the metal floor next to him, offering her a seat. She took it, wrapping her arms around her knees as she listened with child-like amusement. "The Raven and the Writing Desk are of the same soul." Word began. "They both dream the same dream. They both dream to become the other. The Raven wants to be the Writing Desk and the Writing Desk desires to be the Raven. The Raven wants to fill the world with beautiful words with all the stories it has to tell, but alas the only words the Raven can make is the gruff _kaw _that comes from its throat. And so the Raven wishes to be the Writing Desk."

"The Writing Desk wants only to be free. To ride on the wind like the Raven, to go where it wants and not be slave to the whims and word of man. But the Writing desk cannot be free. The black feathers it craves can only come as close as the dripping of black ink."

"And so you see the Raven is like the Writing Desk. They are of the same soul. They both want what they cannot have." Word finished.

The Blaziken had sat quietly through this whole speech, listening and watching quiet and intent, and now she smiled a small smile.

"You're an idiot." A voice said solely, but soft. "You, the bird, the desk, all of it…everything. So stupid."

The Blaziken's smile disappeared as she turned toward the dark corner. Word however, still smiled as he stared. Pins shifted shifted only slightly from his shadowy corner, enough to sit himself straight. It was enough for the Blaziken to know recognize the form of the Cacturne.

"I thought it was rather poetic." She said.

"Then you're stupid too." Pins replied.

"Perhaps I am." She said. "My name is Nix by the way, Nix Redfeather."

"Bond. James Bond."

"Really?"

"See? You are stupid."

Nix smiled again. "I am not the one rotting away in the dark."

"We're all rotting in the House; it's just a matter of where we do it. Tell you what though, why don't you leave and let me get back to my rotting in peace?"

"You two have a lovely little back-and-forth thing going on." This came from Word who was looking at them through his dirty rag and smiling.

"Why don't you take the crazy fish too?" Pins said.

"You are the Cacturne that stories about whom have been floating around the entire House am I right? Needles or some such."

Pins looked at her like he was very close to calling her an idiot again. "Pins." He said without sounding friendly. "And if I were you, I wouldn't take too much solace in stories."

"I never do. Though yours caught my attention. From what I hear you picked a fight with the Warden during your first few hours here and then whisked some poor soul away in the next few weeks."

Before she had time to register anything, there was a long green needle gently poking into her neck. "That _poor soul_ was my best friend." Pins hissed. "Don't you ever talk about him."

Nix was not deterred; she faced Pins with a defiant face. "You have lost someone. Just as I have, just as we all have. That is what the House on the Hill and the Warden do. They take from us. I have been here for years; I know how this place works. I know all about the darkness in these halls and how every day we all must fight against that darkness, lest it enter us, consume us, and become us."

"That would never happen to me!" Pins cried.

"Yet look where you are."

And Pins did look. He looked out at the cell, other convicts looking at them some hoping for more entertainment, some like his friends, just looking scared. He looked at Nix's face, defiant and proud yet still holding onto something younger and childish and afraid. He looked at his own needle pointing at her neck and wondered; how long ago was it that he'd been in this situation before, the Warden poking him in chest. Did Pins look as brave as Nix when the Warden had burned him?

She was right. The darkness, the air of the House on the Hill had been working in him. He had literally been sitting in darkness like the Warden, like the House had wanted all along. He wished he could have protected Brick, been there with him when whatever had happened happened. He wished he could be as brave as Nix.

"Hey Pins, you alright man?"

Pins returned from his thoughts to see Kenta and Hazel coming up to him, looks of worry on their faces. He looked and saw Nix still staring at him, his needle still against her throat. He dropped his arm like it suddenly weighed too much, and hung his head dejectedly.

"When I found Brick in the Furnace…I made him a promise." Pins said softly with his head lowered. "I promised him that no matter what, I would get us out of here." He stood up slowly and raised his head as he walked out of the corner, out of the darkness, and into the light. "I'm going to keep that promise if it kills me."

"Well it's about time! Welcome back brother." Kenta cried with a playful punch to Pin's leg. Hazel smiled and from across the cell Jensen gave him a nod. Grant appeared to be asleep but he too was smiling.

Beside him, Nix rose as well. "Glad to hear it. I've been pushed around to wing after wing of this place trying to cause as much trouble as I could. Trying to get others to help me, and for years I've gone nowhere, gotten nothing. But you…"

"I played the Warden's game, and then I gave up."

"Games are a funny thing aren't they?" Word asked. "Anyone can start a game, it's easy, probably too easy, but _playing _a game, now that's different. You need someone else to play a game in order to play a game, otherwise it's not a game at all. When you make the game and you make people play the game, then everything works out for you, until that is, someone comes along who plays the game better than you. Then if you want to win the game your only choices are to play the game better or give up. And no one likes giving up."

"But I did give up." Pins said.

"I don't think that's what Word is saying." They were surprised to hear this coming from Hazel. "The Warden makes the rules, he makes the game we all just play it. But you Pins, he's been after you ever since you got here. Attacking you when you got here and what happened to your friend."

"I get it. He's scared of you, he thinks you play the game too well, better than he does." Kenta said. "So he did everything he could to make sure you either loss or gave up."

Pins shook his head. "But why? Why me?"

"Because you bring something different to the table, something I've been trying to bring to the House since I first got here. The one thing that could end the Warden's game, that could bring all the players in the House together." Nix said. "Hope."

Nix came up and grasped Pins' shoulders coming much too close to him for his own comfort. "Everything you've done here, every defiant word you spoke, every friend you've made, everyone you lost, every time you choose to fight back it gives you hope. It gives everyone hope. As long as we know we are not hopeless, we will never give into the House on the Hill."

Pins looked at his friends and he thought of the one he'd lost. He grabbed Nix's wrists and held her hands down. "All right then," he smirked in that old rebellious way he had, "let's see if we can't throw a wrench into the Warden's clock.

His friends smiled back. Word laughed and raised his arms gesturing to Pins and Nix. "Raven, meet Writing Desk. What a wonderful pair you two make."

Pins looked and saw that he still held Nix's wrists. He let them go quickly and cleared his throat. "So you uh, got a plan or something Redfeather?" he asked.

"Perhaps." She smiled.

Amongst the fires and steam and clanking and grinding, in the middle of the House on the Hill and the heart of hell, the devil himself sat at a desk. His claws were folded, his elbows resting on the wood. On the desk, a black pocket watch sat ticking away the seconds. Warden Tinker opened his eyes suddenly as if he had been woken from sleep, or as if he had heard someone talking.

"Very well then," he said lacking of any emotions, "game on."

**End Ch. 8 **

**And that brings the linguistic body count up to eight. Terribly sorry for the hiatus, but well, you know beginning of summer and all that. To be honest I do not have anything humorous here to say so I will simply cut to the chase and thank the loyal readers and others who support the story. **

**Nix Redfeather belongs to Tyltalis **

**Pins, the House etc. belongs to Helpless Inc. **

**Word belongs to TheInkEater **

**Pokémon cannot be owned you fools! It's a state of mind! Hahahahaaaa!**


	9. Master's Plan Part 1

Hard Time

Ch.9

Pins and Nix took charge of their little gang, meeting when they could in the 13th wing cell and coming up with some sort of plan. They gathered in a small circle and spoke in hushed voices with their heads bent. It was good. It was distracting. It was difficult.

"We'll need something more than our wits if we need to fight off guards and the Warden." Kenta pointed out.

"Some of us have wits _and _good looks." Grant purred.

"I'll try to keep that in mind." Nix said. "But Kenta's right, what we need are weapons."

"There are no weapons in the House." Jensen pointed out.

"No guns or swords maybe but we do have some things." Pins said. "Claws, teeth, punches and kicks, and me, well Yetrius doesn't call me 'Pin Cushion' for nothing. In a pinch we'll make do."

"It would be easier if we could actually attack." Hazel said.

Pins nodded. "Kenta, have you looked at the charms anymore?"

"What, after last time? No…I won't admit to defeat just yet but these things are some tough customers that's for sure."

"Yetrius told me that only the Warden could take them off."

Grant laughed. "Wonderful! We'll just ask him nicely to unlock them."

"We could steal his keys for them." Hazel said simply as the others stared at her like she just suggested they should steal the moon.

Nix laughed in her throat. "The Warden doesn't seem like the kind of guy who carries around keys."

"Exactly." Pins pointed at her. "Kenta, if you heated up that bone of yours would it still be able to work?"

"Well yeah, but I don't see how—of course!" he slapped his boney head. "A thermally activated tumbler system. Why didn't I think of that? If I inflame it enough it would be like—"

"Like a flaming claw." Jensen finished.

"Jensen, Grant, you two have been stuck in the wing longer than all of us. You think you can start spreading the word of a mutiny around covertly."

"That may be difficult." Jensen said.

"Around here it's pretty much every man for themselves. Plus you haven't exactly done a great job making friends." Grant nodded towards where Gifu and Ichimi were talking against the wall of the cell.

"Then just go with the ones you know you can trust, I'll worry about those two later. Right now I think our biggest problem are _those_." Pins pointed high at the wall. The others looked and saw a Durant scanning the entire cell back and forth with its red eyes. "Those things are everywhere and they all seem to follow the Warden's signals. Even if the bastard isn't here himself or any guards, they'll be a swarm of those on us in a minute."

"Even if we could attack, they outnumber us 100 to 1." Jensen agreed. "Plus they seem to know every nook and cranny of the entire House."

"Where the heck do they come from anyway?" Kenta asked

"In the 18th wing, our jobs are to feed and clean up after the Durants." Nix explained. "They have a large dome shaped room down there, and tunnels that all connect into it covering the ceiling and floor. They must all be connected to other parts of the House."

"So that's how those little buggers get around." Grant said.

Pins' head was slowly starting to form a plan. "Nix," he said, "when you feed them, I'm guessing they all come down into the dome."

Nix nodded. "Yes. We fill up a large trough with bags of food, but they have us leave before the Durants actually show up. We can always hear them though, tiny little scrapes in the wall all around us, echoing from the tunnels."

Pins scratched his chin and slowly formed a small smile. "So every single sentry in the House will be in the same place at the same time, while all the convicts and guards will be someplace else…"

"Oh-ho, I think I see where you're going with this Pins. Sabotage?"

Pins looked up at the Durants darting across the walls and ceiling and once again his old sly smile returned to his face. "I think I've got something a bit more…theatrical in mind."

**0O0O0O0O0 0O0O0O0**

_Sir, I just don't think it's necessary. _Zenon's voice echoed in both their heads.

"Necessary? Oh, forgive me Zenon, you are unequivocally correct." The Warden agreed clicking his claw on the table in time with the ticking watch on his desk. "Rather, I am making a verbal requisite bylaw, as is the right of my position and my rank. So forgive me, Zenon, if I do not take your feelings on necessity into consideration when I make decisions pertaining to my facility." The Heatmor stated simply.

_Yes….sir. I'll see that it's done. _Zenon said in a sour voice before disappearing through the wall.

Yetrius shifted in the chair, comically too small for him, that sat in front of the Warden's desk. Even he, one of the most experienced guards under Zenon and most frightening, felt his pulse quicken and his body tense at the realization that he was alone with the Warden in his office. Even the most spiteful people on Earth still have something to fear.

The ticking and tapping went on for several minutes in silence and Yetrius began to think it would be best to just excuse himself. "You of course have notions of questioning my orders as well, Yetrius?"

Yetrius opened his unscarred eye wide. "N-no Warden, I trust your judgment."

Warden Tinker spun away from him and looked out of the large window. "Trust or fear I wonder?" he mumbled.

"I-I do have to ask though sir," Yetrius began slowly while the Warden spun around and looked at him with unemotional expectation, "Is the security heightening because of Atticus Pins?"

The giant flinched as the Warden forcefully clicked the watch shut, plunging the office into deadly silence. "Why…would it be?" the Warden asked.

Yetrius gulped and sweat began to accumulate on his head as he felt the temperature of the room heating up. "It's just that, sir, I was just down in the wing a few days ago dropping off the convict from 18, and he seemed as broken as bef—"

"Do not dare to assume that you know what goes on in my facility better than myself, Yetrius." The Warden said coolly though his wrists began to puff out smoke and the heat grew even worse."

"Yes Warden."

"That will be all Yetrius."

"Yes Warden."

Yetrius stood and made for the door. The wheel spun and the door opened of its own accord. The Abamasnow was halfway through the threshold when he was called back.

"Oh, and Yetrius? With the security of the facility intensified, I expect no more gaffes like the one involving that unfortunate Slaking." Yetrius nodded. "It would be a shame for me to have to impart the importance of diligence to you again." The Warden added.

"After all, I have no use for a guard with no eyes at all."

Subconsciously, Yetrius gently touched the area beneath his good eye. "You have my word sir, nothing will happen."

**0o0o0o0o 0o0o0o0o0o **

"What's happening?" The Loudred guard asked as he rushed over to the scene.

"O, the pain! The excruciating pain! Someone please just end it all, I beg of you!"

Jensen stood over Grant while he writhed on the ground. "I don't know." Jensen said, "He was complaining about a headache this morning and how weak he's been feeling this week. Then he suddenly just fell to the ground like this." He said gesturing at the poor tormented Luxray.

"Momma, momma, is that you?" Grant asked as he attempted to stand on his hind legs and put his paws on Jensen's shoulders. "I don't think I'm gonna' make it mamma! Tell Suzy it was me who broke her crayon in the third grade. She'll know what I mean."

"Calm down there convict." The Loudred commanded. "Can we get a medic in here?" he screamed to the other guard waiting by the door. A few Durants were already coming down the walls and making some space between Grant and the guard and the other prisoners.

Pins and the others backed off, but not very far. To make sure they could keep an eye on their friend and not draw the attention of guards or the clacking jaws of Durants. "Are you sure this is going to work?" Hazel asked softly not looking at Pins.

"Have some faith in him Hazel." Pins said.

By now the medic had shown up and was attempting, along with the Loudred, to hold Grant down. She was the same Grumpig Pins had ran into from the Furnace. "Sir, you may have had a stroke, you need to calm down." She was saying over Grant's yelling. "I need 14 cc's of Etrophine." She said to the Loudred

"You ain't gonna take me alive you dirty rats!" Grant screamed. He continued to thrash and then suddenly stopped and smiled. "My, you have incredibly soft hands my dear." He purred.

Kenta face palmed himself before Grant continued his act. "If he blows this thing, I am personally going to kill him." He groaned.

Pins gave him a small reassuring smile as the Grumpig was handed a syringe and gave Grant a shot. He smiled as his body stiffened and stopped thrashing. "Rosebud." He said loud enough for those close to him to hear, giving Pins, Kenta, Jensen, Hazel, and Nix another reason to smile.

They watched as a pair of Durants carried Grant off in a gurney and the guards and crowd dispersed. "Our hopes are riding on that creep now?" Nix asked.

"He's not a creep! He's just…passionate." Hazel defended.

Pins nodded gravely. "Either way, yes. I'm sure we can trust Grant to get the job done. In the meantime though, we have our own work to do. Jensen, start spreading some rumors, and remember: discreet. Kenta, start tweaking with that pick of yours. Ladies, keep your heads down."

Nix scoffed. "I am no lady." She said furrowing her brow and crossing her arms.

"Of course, please forgive me." Pins laughed and gave a little bow.

"And what are you going to do?" Nix asked.

Pins looked away to the far side of the wing, where he saw two large feathery persons giving him the death gaze. "Me?" he asked with a smile. "I get the fun job."

**End of Chapter 9 **

**All right, all right I know. I've kept you guys waiting much too long and this probably isn't as good an installment as you were expecting. I won't make excuses (summer vacation) or try to apologize (I'm sooooorry, *sob*), I'll just say that this is merely a short introduction into the slowly rising climax of the story and promise a much more exciting and sooner update. Again, **_**vraiment desole**_**. **

** Crazy today, the Helpless Romantic**


	10. Master's Plan Part 2

Hard Time

Ch.10

**For those of you betting that I wouldn't be updating again quickly: In yo' face sucka! For those loyal enough not to care either way and just wanted the story to continue: ** **votre fidélité est appréciée. Because people seem to like it when I use French. **

_"In Dublin's fair city,_

_Where the girls are so pretty,_

_I first laid my eyes on sweet Molly Malone,_

_As she wheeled her wheelbarrow,_

_Through the streets wide and narrow,_

_Singing 'Cockles and mussels alive-vi-live 'oh' _

_Alive-vi-li-live 'oh, Alive-vi-li-live 'oh, _

_Singing 'Cockles and mussels alive-vi-live 'oh'." _

"Word, is that the only song you know?" Pins asked flatly.

"Yes. Why? Would you like to hear it again?" Word asked happily and without waiting for an answer took a deep breath.

_"She was a fishmonger, _

_ And sure t'was no wonder,_

_ For so were her mother and father before,_

_ And they each wheeled their barrow,_

_ Through streets wide and narrow,_

_ Singing 'Cockles and mussels alive-vi-live—" _

Pins reached over quick as lightning as clapped a pinned had over his mouth. "No more singing, unless I tell you to, okay?" he asked desperately. Word was obviously smiling under Pins' hand, but he nodded once. "Thank you." Pins sighed.

It was night in the House on the Hill, or "lights-out" anyway. The prisoners of course had no idea what time it could possibly be outside. The real world, high above and beyond the miles of fire and metal, a world that breamed with life and air, seemed furthest away during the sleeping hours of the House.

But it was also this time when the entire House was united. Not in anger, or pain, or justice, but in hope. All through the corridors and cells and great fiery bowels of the prison, as one by one the prisoners fought through pain and fear, they slept and they dreamed, and they all dreamed the same dream: Freedom.

It was only at this time, when fire and rage were dimmed, that just a thing seemed possible. In a way for the prisoners in the House, the real world had become nothing more than a dream.

Pins and his friends were in their usual spot along the edge of the sunken square. Nix was stretched out, resting her head against the short wall and breathing quietly in her sleep. Jensen had apparently fallen asleep in a meditative position, Hazel's head resting in his lap. Kenta lay on the floor, on his back, cuddling his bone like a teddy bear. This left Pins and Word the only ones awake, not just of their group but in the entire wing. Pins sat on the edge of the sunken square, slightly slumped with his back facing away from the part of the cell wall that was the door.

He looked out at the wing and its people all sleeping quietly under the dimmed red lights, taking in the quiet, and the stillness. Had he not been in the House, he would have called it "peaceful". The peace did not last long though. Quiet was hunted and killed by its age old enemy, Word. The singing was not even the worst of it.

"All right, I have another one for you. Can Arceus make a rock so big that even he can't lift it? Now I'm an Arceus-fearing man myself, but it raises and interesting problem doesn't it?"

"Whatever you say Word." Pins answered mechanically.

The Marshtomp stared at him through his dirty blindfold. "You know it's no fun to ponder when there's no one to ponder with."

"You and your pondering never seem to be discouraged when no one seems to care." Pins said.

Word lurched back and put a hand to his chest, but still smiled. "What on earth do you mean? Everyone loves what I have to say." Pins smiled and shook his head. "Or at least one seems to hear what I have to say." He said looking over at the sleeping Blaziken. "And what more could a story-teller ask for? That at least one heart could be touched by his words."

Pins looked at Nix too, his smile disappearing. "Touching her heart, huh? A lot of romantic drabble if you ask me."

"Well I am nothing if not a helpless romantic." Word laughed.

With those words, the door to wing 13 creaked open. Of course it should have been, and was, loud enough to wake up the wing, but the guests in the House quickly learned that if they truly wanted to sleep they needed to become accustomed to all the banging and crashing and creaking.

Grant strode into the wing quietly as Pins quickly rose and turned to face him. Word turned his head but stayed on the ground. Jensen open his eyes only slightly while Nix had shot up at the sound, her instincts and reflexes taking over. Kenta was still snoring.

Pins waited for Grant to come to him which he did proudly and stopped, sitting in front the Cacturne brushing his mane with his paw. Pins stared at him eyes, wide waiting expectantly, and noticed a bruise on the side of his face. "You thought Emera was a girl, didn't you?"

"It made the check-up very awkward." Grant said.

Nix had now approached the two, fully awake and active. "How did it go? Did you get them?"

"Did you see out there yesterday?" Grant asked proudly. "I was magnificent, wasn't I? I don't like to toot my own horn, but, we-he-he-ll," he laughed, "needless to say, the portrayal of my demise would have shamed Giratina, banished from the world by Arceus. I think I might have a future in acting if—"

"Grant!" Pins screamed, stirring some of the other prisoners in their sleep. He recovered himself and rubbed his forehead. "You're as bad as Word, you know that?"

"I could take offense to that you know." Word said.

"Did. You get. The stuff?" Pins asked Grant very slowly trying not to lose his temper.

"Through rather sneaky tactics, and some failed flirtations at certain persons that I was wrong about, yes." Grant said. He parted the thick fur on his shoulder revealing a glass bottle duct taped to his skin.

Pins grabbed the bottle and ripped it off. Grant started to cry out in pain, but was cut off when a hand shot out and covered his mouth. It belonged to Jensen, who removed his hand and gave Grant a smile. "You did well, old friend."

Pins looked at the brown bottle in his hand. The warning label on it was black with white print and very very large. "Ladies and gentlemen, I give you our ticket out of here." He smiled, and so did the others.

A writer once said, "Hope is a thing with wings". This could not be more accurate, though the poet was a little off. They describe hope as a thing with wings, and when they do they are alluding to a bird. Hope is indeed a thing with wings, but it is definitely not a bird. Hope is a butterfly.

For hope is small at first glance; or maybe it flies by too fast for you to get a look at, and then you're not really sure if you had any hope at all. Hope is also very nice to look at. Hope is beautiful, and unique, and breathtaking in its natural beauty. But like the butterfly, hope is so easy to kill. All it takes is a simple hit, maybe even a small one, and hope is squished leaving only the broken beautiful wings that captivated you in the first place.

The friend's butterfly was crushed when, for the second time that night, the door to wing 13 opened. This time though, there was no friend who walked carefully through the door. This time Durants came scuttling through the door, metal jaws clanking loudly while a fist hit the walls like a gong.

"On your feet you worthless maggots! Warden in the wing!" Yetrius yelled.

Pins quickly hid the bottle behind his back and attempted to get to the back of the cell past the other inmates who were now starting to wake. Jensen, Grant, Nix, and Pins all caught each other's eyes quickly, then attempted to spread out, only to be stopped by Durants.

"Line up, people, on your feet! Wall to wall and face me!" Yetrius kept commanding.

The convicts did so ending up with Pins in the middle followed by Grant, Nix, and Jensen all in order. Hazel and Kenta, who had been asleep, ended up towards the back of the line. Kenta shot Pins a worried, questioning look to which Pins merely nodded and put a finger to his lips.

Pins managed to keep the bottle hidden, but he was not fool enough to think it would remain so for long. He tightened his grip on the bottle when, from the almost blinding white light of the cell door an all too familiar ticking sound came. The Warden was here, but not in the cell just yet. Meaning that they still had a chance.

Yetrius had moved to the very beginning of the line, searching each Pokémon entirely and going down. They were looking for something. Pins caught Nix looking over and giving him a wide eyed glare. They were boned if he didn't think of something quick.

Yetrius was just coming up to check the Watchog to Pins' left. He was next. Panicking only slightly, Pins did the only thing he could think of doing. He slowly stretched out the hand with the bottle in it and gently nudged Grant's stomach. Grant didn't look forward but wrapped the bottle in his tail and quickly pressed the bottle to Jensen's back.

Pins would have kept looking, but suddenly a large shadow fell over him. "Good morning, pin cushion." Yetrius growled happily.

"Morning, Cyclops." Pins replied equally happy.

Yetrius growled again, much less happy this time, and proceeded to pat him down, checking his back and even under his hat. Begrudgingly satisfied, Yetrius continued down the line until he passed all of Pins' friends and he sighed with relief.

Yetrius was finally done with his inspection, and somehow no one was caught with anything. The Abomasnow did not look happy with the result though, in fact he looked…scared.

He stood against the wall next to the cell entrance and gave his large salute. "The…inspection yielded nothing, sir." Yetrius said slowly gulping once.

"Credulous dupe." The Warden sighed as he stepped from the lighted hallway into the darker cell. "You should know better than to assent to anything you perceive on the superficial. If you wish to acquire the truth you must be willing to gaze into the profounder truth."

Every convict in the line tensed as the Warden approached the line with his claws behind his back. He walked past most of them, not giving them a second glance but, as nearly everyone in the room suspected stopped in front of Pins.

Pins tried to stare forward and not even look at the monster beside him. "Atticussss." The Warden literally hissed softly. "Is there anything you would like to convey? Anything at all to say?" But Pins remained silent and faced forward. "Stalwart as ever I see." The Warden said.

He looked down the line. "Are your friends as wordless?" he asked. He approached Grant. "You?" and Jensen. "What about you, hmm?" and Nix. "And the hoary firebrand has nothing to say either?" All of them stayed silent and did not look the Heatmor. The Warden walked a little further down the line before stopping at another.

"And you?" the Warden asked.

"Hello Tinker." Word smiled.

Everyone in the cell tensed and held their breath. "And now that you mention it, yes I do have something to say. Do you know what they feed us down here? Some kind of inedible slop, a thick paste with bits of what I believe used to be vegetable and meat. It's repulsive. Would it be too much to ask for an orange once in a while? A piece of bread at least for Arcues' sake! I know we're in prison, but is that any excuse for a total lack of hospitality? I mean we are your guests after all."

Everyone waited for the outburst, or the yelling, or the violence that was to come while the Warden stared at Word with his droopy eyes and kept his claws behind his back. Word stared right back through his blindfold, smiled, and said nothing.

Unbelievably, the Warden finally turned away. "There is nothing of any relevance here." He stated simply as he made for the door. "Everyone may return to their slumber," he turned back slightly his eye fixed on one in particular, "good luck in your endeavors." And though it was dark in the cell and afterwards no one could say for sure, Pins swore he saw the Warden wink just before he walked out of the cell. Yetrius followed and the Durants scuttled off before the door once again shut.

Immediately the convicts started to disperse, to return to their places in the cell and attempt to grasp onto the dreams they had lost. It would be a while though, before they could return to sleep after such a wake up.

Pins' group gathered at their place rather quickly and hunched together whispering. "What was all that about?" Kenta asked.

"The Warden seemed to know that we had taken something." Jensen said.

"You got it?" Hazel asked Grant.

"Of course I did," Grant said, "my skills are limitless."

"Your ego too." Pins said. "I was worried for a minute there, nice job hiding it Jensen."

The Lucario shook his head. "It was not me, when Grant passed it to me, I passed it to Nix."

"Nix?" Pins asked looking at her.

"I…I had to pass it too. He was coming to me fast." She said.

"Who did you give the bottle to?" Pins asked seriously.

Nix turned her head slightly, everyone else followed her gaze. "Now why on earth is everyone staring at me all of a sudden?" Word asked happily. "Do I have something on my face?"

"Word, where is the bottle?" Pins asked growing angry.

Word laughed once. "Oh, now you want to hear what I have to say?"

"Word, come on." Nix pleaded.

"All right, all right, on one condition." Word said looking at Pins. "I get to sing." He smiled mischievously.

Pins groaned and shaped his hands like he was about to strangle the Marshtomp, then sighed and hung his hand at his sides. "Fine, whatever, just give me the bottle." He said.

Word smiled, but this one was a little softer than his usual beaming grin. The others watched with shock on their faces as Word reached up and slowly undid the dirty rag covering his eyes. He brought his hands down.

Nix and Grant both gasped loudly, Hazel had to look away. The others merely looked shocked and sorry.

Word had no eyes at all. Only empty sockets that seemed so much darker than the cell.

Something brown glinted in one of the empty sockets. With a few disturbing clinks Word gently took the bottle out of his head, he handed to Pins who was not moving. Word gripped his hand, turned it palm up, and closed his fingers around the bottle. Before he let go of Pins' hand Word gave another somber but large smile that was rather off putting when coupled with literally empty eyes.

There was a long moment of silence while Word replaced the dirty cloth onto his face. Pins looked down at the bottle in his hand, to Word, and back to the bottle again. "Word," he began but stopped himself, thinking of how best to proceed, "what happened to you?" was the best he could come up with.

The Marshtomp tugged the blindfold tight and sighed with a smile. "Oh, well you know how things go. You're young, and stupid, and the girls are pretty and smart, and you do whatever it takes to impress them."

"That usually doesn't involve losing your eyes." Jensen said.

Word laughed like his usual self again. "True, but when you get your heart broken and nothing you do seems to fix it you don't tend to worry about any other part of yourself. Basically when someone offers you a chance to forgo that, no matter who it is, you go with it. You really can't afford to care if repairing the heart, or at least removing the pain, means doing something that may…impair your body. Or even your mind."

No one could think of anything to say, even if they could, they probably wouldn't have said it.

Word however, got right to the point. "Well, if you will excuse me, as per our agreement I am off to fill this place with the joyous sound of music." He began walking happily away, probably neither going anywhere particular or caring where he ended up. 

"Well…we got it." Kenta said looking at the bottle in Pins' hand.

"Yeah, we did." Pins said. "Tomorrow comes the hard part: using it."

"_She died of a fever,_

_And no one could save her,_

_And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone._

_Now her ghost wheels her barrow,_

_Through the streets wide and narrow,_

_Singing 'Cockles_ and mussels alive-vi-live oh',

_Alive-vi-li-live 'oh, Alive-vi-li-live 'oh, _

_Singing 'Cockles and mussels alive-vi-live 'oh'." _

**0o0o0o0 0o0o0o0 **

"J-just a little further. Just a little further." How long had he been telling himself that? It was always just a little further, just a few more steps, just one more day of walking.

How long ago had it been now that the Slaking had woken up at the bottom of this endless pit, this dark never-ending crevice? Looking up, there was only a sky of black looking back down at him. No sign that there was anything at all above him. To either of his sides the way simply continued into unimaginable blackness.

When Brick had first regained consciousness, his leg had been broken and one of his large arms hanged limp at his side. He'd simply chose a direction and kept limping down the metal floor, good arm touching the metal wall to act as a guide.

That had been days ago. His leg and arm now throbbed constantly with pain, and while he'd been rather healthy and fat when he started, the days without food or drink had taken their toll on his body and mind.

But still Brick kept going, fighting to move through the darkness. He refused to die in this foul place without fighting back. But the shadows were relentless and they never wavered, they offered no sign of hope or ever ending. And so there was always just a little farther to go.

Brick wheezed and rested against the wall for just a moment. Just a short rest before he kept going. He looked out into the shadows and for a split second he saw a flicker of light in the darkness ahead. So small and fast it could have been a firefly. Until Brick heard the scream.

It was low and soft, coming from far away, but it echoed all along the metal walls of the pit and passed him like a wave of sound. "Hello. Is anyone there?" Brick called. No answer. Not even another scream.

But the light came back. Far off in the darkness a purple flame floated and shined. It was small, but given what he had seen so far, it was a beacon of hope. Brick limped much faster down the floor of the Pit. "Is anyone there? Hello? Can you help me, please?" he called out desperately.

He moved slowly, but made good time through the shadows, and yet the purple light never got smaller or larger, making it seem like Brick was making no progress at all. "Please, please. I'm so tired." He wheezed out.

At last hunger and pain and exhaustion proved too much, and his weak but still massive body fell down. He reached out his good arm toward the still small light, as if he could grasp it and hold it to him. Finally, his arm fell, and then his head. He had had enough.

He already knew it was over for him, but suddenly he saw the light grow just a little bit bigger, it began to flicker more wildly in the dark. Then came the fog. Even though there was light at the end of the tunnel, Brick never would have noticed to fog before. It was black.

It was like the shadows themselves were moving, but were only visible in glow of the purple light. And now the light was even larger, the size of his fist. Wait…it was getting even bigger, and much more quickly. No…not bigger... it was getting closer.

"No." Brick managed to squeak just before the purple flame hit him. It burned his body, but he felt it going after his soul, he screamed loudly and shrilled, but even his own shriek was drowned out by the other that filled every atom of that Arceus forsaken place.

Through the fire that burned his still living body, Brick saw a figure that terrified him one thousand times more than the Warden ever could. It was some kind of warped Lampent, several times larger than its usual kind, its eyes red and filled with malice rather than its kind's usual empty yellow. Its head, in which a purple flame glowed brightly was tinged black instead of clear.

Again Brick screamed, from fear, from pain, from both, and the horrible creature screamed too. It sounded so much like a dying man, like Brick, but ten times louder. Mercifully the pain began to disappear, everything began to dim, and he felt breath leaving his body. He no longer felt scared or in pain, at last everything was over. No more suffering.

His last breath came and with it his final words. "Kick some ass Pins."

The fire consumed everything. Body and soul. Afterwards there was nothing left but a single violet flame. Then that too was snuffed out, leaving only darkness.

**End Ch.10 **

**Yeah another creepy ending, maybe even a sad ending, probably a creepy sad chapter in general. But if you're reading this then you obviously liked it enough to read it in its entirety , so jokes on you! Quick update, kinda long chapter, we see a little more of Pins' master plan coming together, learn a little more about Word, and find out what really happened to Brick. What is this terrifying monster in the depths of the Pit? Buy the next issue to find out….it costs…a hug… **

**Crazy today, the Helpless Romanic **

**Pins, the Warden, the House belong to Helpless Inc. **

**The Phantom (can you guess who that is?) belongs to Graceful Swanna **

**P.S. See Graceful Swanna? I told you I'd use the Phantom. Thanks for the OC!**


	11. Sacrifices

Hard Time

Ch.11

**So there I was, happily lounging on my personal desert island, sipping from a stereotypical coconut beverage and taking in the relaxing waves of the ocean, when suddenly from high above a large bag dropped onto the beach. I looked inside and do you know what I found? An immeasurable amount of letters, notes, messages, and communications all saying pretty much the same thing: "Helpless Romantic, where did you go? Can't you see we miss you so? Will you keep writing? Please let us know." Well, as I am a man who lives to please and pleases to live, I hopped right on the first plane to the nearest type writer and did this little ditty. So congratulations you parasitic literature fanatics, you inconsolable junkies of ink and paper! I'm here once more to gratify your hungry eyes and hearts with the writ words the likes of which shame Homer and Shakespeare brainstorming with Steven Spielberg…..Oh, it's good to be back! **

**0o0o0o0o0 0o0o0o0o0**

Emotions were not something that Warden Tinker usually partook in. Since building his magnificent, glorious facility of peace and justice, he had since learned that they were simply not necessary for his work. The guards expected him to be a symbol of authority and a worthy commander, the prisoners already had in their mind that the Warden of such a place must have been cruel and heartless. He only hoped he had lived up to everyone's expectations. He did smile very quickly at that.

But while he deemed it best that every single living thing in the world go about thinking that he was an unemotional monster, he did in fact…_feel_, very often in fact. He felt elation when a new group of convicts and criminals came in, regret when he was forced to kill them quickly without any form of torture, and very recently he felt more rage than he was used to.

But this, he took a moment to inhale the smog filled air of his facility, this was something different. This feeling that surged through him, oh it was marvelous. Delight, elation, bliss, magnificent, bravura bliss! He had not felt this feeling since the first years he had spent welding together the initial outline of his facility. Truly there was no greater feeling in the world than creating, becoming the master of a world entirely of your own design.

In short, Warden Tinker was very happy as he supervised the mechanical chaos in front of him.

He stood on a wire mesh platform, both clawed hands gripping the metal bannister. Below him, above him, to both his sides, and every direction possible around him there was the sound and smell of metal working. Pokémon were above the floor in harnesses welding at the walls in some places, or cutting away at others. On the floor they dragged wires and cables and plugs and tinkered endlessly with levers and buttons. All this added with the hundreds of Durants that crawled around the chaos, moving tools or pieces of metal on their backs or in the iron grip of their mandibles.

"Warden Tinker!" someone called loudly amid the sounds or grinding and burning. The call interrupted the Warden from his most enjoyable basking. He looked down from the platform he was on; everyone was below him, as it should be. The caller himself was a Machop wearing small iron working goggles. "We may have a problem sir!" he called again.

The Warden delicately flipped the incredibly small black switch on the rail of the platform which slowly began to descend. The Metal pole it rested on sunk into a hole in the floor till the platform itself rested on the ground. He pushed open the gate smoothly and approached the Machop calmly.

"Trust me, dear Rievet, when I say that the very last thing I wish to hear right now is that we may have a problem." He said while bending down to the smaller Pokemon's eye line.

"I-I'm sorry Warden, sir," Rievet stumbled, "but I just don't see how we can possibly make everything to your…odd specifications."

"Oh, well I deeply apologize for inconveniencing you." The Warden said. "The last thing I want to do is make things difficult for you. If you have found that the very job I have employed you to perform is simply too demanding, I can always prepare you a place with a much easier task. Perhaps digging sepulchers would be more suited to your speed?"

"Ah-ha, as always your jokes are hilarious sir." Rievet smiled nervously.

The Warden looked away and scratched his chin with a large claw. "Joking. Yes, that's what I was doing. Hmm….Now what exactly is this supposed _problem _you are having?"

"Well it's the wall sir, more specifically the fourth wall, sir."

"That was always my least favorite wall. Yours' too I assume?" he asked looking at you.

"Uh, who are you talking to?" Rievet asked.

"Oh, no one important I assure you. Do go on."

"….Right, well, the fourth wall in the east corridor is blocking where we would be installing the supporting structure and would carry on for about 67 meters. I thought we would be able to get around it if we adjusted the lumbar beams in the design, but that's a no go." Rievet explained.

"If the wall is the problem than might I suggest simply rescinding it?"

"Well that's what we were prepared to do at first, but of course we didn't know what it was. So we certainly can't tear it down."

"And why is that?"

Rievet looked shocked. "Well, because, the holding cell of the 11th wing is just beyond it. And it certainly fits very early in the following 67 meters, not to mention the first 5. Unless of course, you would prefer to move the prisoners?" he asked.

"What I would prefer, Mr. Rievet, is for this installation to have been completed as quickly as possible. If the wall is what is filibustering the progress than you must take the swiftest and simplest path, which is of course, straight through." The Warden explained with a rather annoyed tone.

Having felt the conversation was over with the Warden started to walk away. "Sir!" Rievet called back quickly. "The prisoners—"

"Mr. Rievet, I assure you that I have far better things to do at this present moment than to debate with you this most guileless order." He came back close and looked him dead in the eyes. "You will go through that wall, along with anything else in your path, else I shall do it and I shall go through anyone in _my _path. Am I clear?" he asked challengingly.

The Machop gulped and nodded. "Outstanding." the Warden said monotone and began walking off again. "Always remember that the path to Order is full of sacrifice my friend, and we must never be afraid to make them." Once he was farther off he added in a whisper, "Especially if they are someone else's."

**0o0o0o0o0 0o0o0o0o0 **

"Would you settle down Kenta? This stuff makes my stomach rough enough without having to watch you sway back and forth." Pins said.

"Oh-ho jokes. He has jokes! Isn't that just entirely appropriate for this situation?!" Kenta cried pausing in his pacing to and fro.

Pins' and his group sat at their usual spot in the Wing, enjoying a delectable meal of the finest swill that could have been scraped out of a Swalot's mouth, though oddly enough the food had started to be served with a small, fresh piece of bread, which made Word rather happy.

"I don't know why you're so worried anyway," Grant said grooming himself, having finished his meal minutes ago, "you Hazel and Nix will have the easy job anyway. While Pins and I will be the ones dealing with an angry mob."

"Thank you for remembering me." Jensen growled.

"Oh yes of course, the easy job." Kenta nodded, "I keep forgetting that all we have to do is navigate through five separate Wings avoiding Guards, Durants, and Arceus-forbid the Warden himself!" the Cubone cried flailing his bone.

"Scream a little louder, I don't think everyone heard you." Grant smirked.

"We'll be fine Kenta." Nix assured him, "I've made the trip to the Durant's Hold before with my Wing. I'll get us there in no time. And if all goes according to plan, the guards will be too distracted to notice us."

"You know, it's after saying things like '_if all goes according to plan' _that things start going to heck." Word commented with a smile.

"Well gee thanks that makes me feel a million times better!" Kenta said and looked at Pins. "So how are you going to go about it anyway Pins? Wait 'til their guard is down and sneak in a hit or two? Or just rush and beat the tar out of them?"

"I honestly hadn't thought about it," Pins said, "and I really don't think it matters."

Word dropped his bowl and despite his eyes-sockets being blindfolded, he gave off a look of shock and awe. "Well of course it matters! Nothing else could possibly matter more than it in this situation!"

He came up to Pins, who was sitting down, so the much shorter Marshtomp was able to wrap an arm around his shoulders. "Just think of the momentous occasion you have been given. This will be a battle of honor and justice. How you choose to go about inducing it sets the mood of the entire affair." Keeping one hand on Pins' shoulder he gestured out at the Wing with his other dramatically. "This will be your greatest moment my friend: the introduction to an epic showdown of good vs. e-vil! Our children's children shall sing of this day for generations to come!"

Pins carefully removed Word's hand from his shoulder. "Okay. So you're insane. Nothing about this fight matters Word, so long as it's distracting."

"Distracting? Is that all?"

"Yes."

"Well why didn't you say so?" Word asked cheerfully. He snatched the bowl of "soup" right out of Pins' hands.

"Wait, WAIT! Word, what are you—" Pins could not stop him in time.

Word chunked the bowl across the wing, as it flew and the others watched it sail, it appeared to move in slow motion. It finally descended and landed directly on the head of a very distraught Staraptor, and splashing some of the fowl gruel on a Honchkrow as well. Gifu and Ichmi both glared death looks at the group. Word smiled back at them and pointed at Pins. "He did it."

"Word, if I survive this, please remind me to kill you."

"Gotcha! If."

Gifu shot across the floor of the Wing at truly amazing speed. His beak collided with Pins shoulder, digging in deep, but he did not slow down. He kept running and running, Pins clutching the back of his head with one hand, knocking down or running over any Pokémon in his way. Pins tried to stop him or at least slow him down by dragging his feet, but the bird's momentum was too great and eventually Gifu pinned him against the opposite metal wall with an echoing thud.

Wincing in pain, Pins grabbed Gifu's now bloody beak with the hand of the shoulder that was punctured, trying to pull it out or push the Staraptor's body away. Gifu merely forced his beak in deeper. Pins cried out in pain again, but then looked at him and smirked. "Geez man, buy a guy dinner first or something." He said before reaching back with his good arm and bringing it smacking against Gifu's face.

Gifu was thrown aside by the force of the hit, his beak removed from Pins' shoulder. The Staraptor stumbled getting to its feet and faced Pins again, more furious than ever. His face was marked by scratches caused by the needles in Pins' arms.

Pins, on his own feet by now and apparently ignoring the still bleeding wound raised his arms and curved the fingers of his hand signaling Gifu to, _bring it on_.

"Hang on Gifu! Save some of this jerk for me!" Ichimi called from the opposite side of the wing. He too began running at Pins, wings raised, talons drawn, though much slower than Gifu. The Honchkrow never made it far before a flying kick courtesy of Jensen knocked him out of the way.

Pins nodded a quick thanks at Jensen which he replied before returning his attention Ichimi who had been thrown into the body of a Graveler who looked none too pleased to see him. The Graveler swung a punch at Ichimi, who managed to doge it, leaving a Rampardos to take the full force of the hit to its throat. The Rampardos roared and charged the Gravel taking it and itself crashing into a Scolipede.

It took mere minutes before all of Wing 13 was erupted in an every-'mon-for-themselves brawl. Punches, kicks, bites, stabs, scratches, all delivered in a carless fashion, a miasma of bodies and fighting.

Grant tackled a Breloom to the ground, knocking him out cold. He smiled at Nix and Hazel. "Apparently the plan is happening now, and as this scene is no such place for classy ladies such as yourselves, you might want to wait by the door." He gestured with his head. "You too chrome-dome." He added looking at Kenta before he gave a loud feline roar and pounced back into the fray.

Nix, Hazel and Kenta did just that, backing up to the wall and staying just to the side of where they were sure the door was installed in the metal wall.

Meanwhile, within the very center of the riot, Pins and Gifu gazed at each other in a dead lock. The sheer looks they were giving each other were enough for all the enraged and/or entertained convicts to give them both fair fighting room. The result was an open space, almost like a fighting stage within a sea of rolling madness.

Gifu scraped his talons across the ground, like a Tauros preparing to charge. The scars Pins' hit had given him still bleed and marked his beak as well as his face. "I am going to enjoy killing you very, VERY much." His voice was dry and raspy.

Pins seemed to ignore him and instead rolled the shoulder that had been previously punctured. It didn't seem to hurt too much anymore and the bleeding had stopped for the most part. "Well you know what? Normally I would enjoy wiping the floor with you and using your stomach to dust the Wing," Pins said giving his arm a practice punch through the air. "But my friends keep telling me that I'm better than that." He smiled softly, almost sadly.

"I don't really know if I believe that. I certainly don't feel like I deserve it…but they're counting on me either way." And then he laughed, a real laugh. Not one of sarcasm or mockery, but a genuinely happy laugh. "You know, I guess that's the difference between you and me Gifu." He said.

"That I am not a weak dumb-ass who depends on other people?"

"Exactly the opposite." Pins replied. "You're strong Gifu, I have no doubt about that, but for all the wrong reasons. You fight and become stronger for your ego, for yourself, kind of like how I used to be. Now though, I got all kinds of different reasons to be strong, I have a new reason to fight. For my friends. And guess what you ugly feather duster? That makes me a hell of a whole lot stronger than you." Pins smiled and crouched slightly in fight stance.

"Like I said, I'm going to enjoy killing you." Gifu stated.

He took off, just as fast as before. This time, once he was closer to Pins, he jumped off the ground just high enough for his outstretched talons to reach his face. Pins was quick to react, blocking the claws by crossing his arms, ensuring that most of Gifu's scratches were met with pricks from his arms.

Pins slashed out with his arms knocking the Staraptor back. He caught himself, digging his talons into the ground again and immediately countered again coming at him, beak at the ready, this time aiming directly at Pins' heart. This time Pins would not be waiting for him, he took off running too, the needles on his arms primed and ready.

He raised his arms to strike.

Gifu dove in with his beak.

Word walked through the crowd of bodies.

Already the riot had been going on for a good 20 minutes but so many were still fighting. It seemed as if tempers which had been stewing in the 13th Wing, more likely in the entire House on the Hill, had finally reached their breaking point. Most of the Pokémon fighting were not doing so because they had an qualms with the people they were fighting. Many of them were just so angry, so depressed about never being able to do anything to fight back in this awful place that they were just looking for a way to vent.

Either that, or they were very bored. Word smiled as he strolled under the punches and kicks of a Hitmonlee and Hitmonchan going at each other. So focused were they on their battle, they never paid any attention to the small figure walking between them. "Piiiins?" Word called as he looked left and right around the Wing, though of course he was blindfolded, so how could he possibly see where Pins could be. Word smiled wider at this.

"Yoo-hoo, Pins, where are you?" he called not to loud at all and rather playfully. He stopped at a fair sized pile of unconious bodies in the middle of the floor. "Pins, are you in there?" He moved aside several bodies and heads to peer deeper inside the pile. "No, not there."

He continued walking across the Wing, looking for Pins. He came across a Machoke that currently had an Aggron is a chokehold desperately trying to escape it. "Pardon me, gents," Word called as both Pokémon looked down at him ceasing their tussle. "I don't suppose you've seen Pins anywhere have you?"

"…Pins?" The Machoke asked as he released the Aggron.

"Yes, a Cacturne. Somber fellow, big scar on his chest, bigger ego?" Word elaborated.

"Well now that you mention it, I did see a Cacturne fighting with Gifu not too long ago." The Aggron said scratching its chin. "Right over there I believe." He pointed out.

Despite being blindfolded Word looked in the direction indicated. "Brilliant. Thank you so much." Word bowed as he left. "Please continue."

Both Pokémon smiled and waved as he left before once again returning to the same headlock stalemate position they had started in.

Word made his way causally past mobs and fights, over and around bodies, till he came to a spot where the fighting was dimmed. There he saw Pins, no worse for the wear as far as Word could see…which was not at all. He was sitting on top of the scarred and presumably unconscious body of a Staraptor.

"Oh, Pins thank goodness I found you." Word smiled as he approached. "Two very important things to tell you!"

"Glad to see your safe too Word." Pins said shaking his head. "All right, lay them on me."

"Did you beat Gifu then?" Word asked lifting up the unconscious Pokémon's face with his foot. "Well done. I hope you said something incredibly witty just before you took him down."

"Witty?" Pins asked.

"Yes, yes, you know like, 'bird of a feather flop together'!" Word said happily. "Or perhaps, 'good night sweet prince'."

Pins sighed. "You're an idiot, and those don't even make sense." He rubbed his forhead.

"Well give me some time and I'll work on a few."

Pins attempted to return to the topic. "Wasn;t there two important things you had to tell me?"

Word looked at him distracted for a moment. "Hmm? Oh yes of course. One: I have noticed a lack of a few of our companions around."

Pins nodded. "Good, then the plan is working."

"So it would seem…for now. But point number two is that you are very much alive." Word pointed out.

"Thank you Word, I hadn't noticed." Pins said.

"And as such, I believed you asked me to remind you to kill me?" Word said with a smile.

Pins looked out at the wing and saw more guards than he'd ever seen in one place in the House, trying to return order, breaking up the riot with shouts or beatings of their own. Pins looked at Word who stared at him with through a blindfold that hid no eyes, and a smile that hid nothing. "Maybe later." Pins said standing and rubbing the Marshtomp's head like a small child.

**0o0o0o0o0 0o0o0o0o0 **

Nix peeked around the corner. Two guards rushed past the hallway in front of them very quickly, never noticing them at all, but she still waited several minutes before she lead Hazel and Kenta out of the indent in the wall.

They'd been moving quickly and quietly through the corridors of the House, only ever seeing any guards three times, each time they'd been moving in the opposite direction that the friends were going. A few times they stopped at what appeared a dead end or a black section of metal wall, but Nix knew that the way to the Druant's Hold was well hidden.

She's directed Kenta to where the hidden locks and tumblers were, disguised as a large bolt or hidden behind a metal panel. His thin bone had made quick work of them, but she'd been sure to close each door behind them, in case anyone would recognize what should not have been opened.

All in all it had been smooth sailing. Nix found herself thinking that maybe Kenta had been wrong. Maybe they did have the easy job while Pins and the others were up there dealing with an all-out riot. She found herself silently praying that Pins would be all right. No, of course he would. He was strong, and smart, much more so than she would ever credit him with, but still…She somehow still hoped he was okay.

At last they came to the last door before the hold. The same one Nix had passed several times before with her Wing and guard escorts. Not this time. "Okay Kenta, this is the last one." Nix said as he approached the door. "Work your magic."

This door was uncharacteristically obvious in its lock. There was only a normal key hole in the very center of the metal door. "All right, let's see what we got here." Kenta said as he reached up with his bone and carefully placed the thin end inside the hole. He froze the second he did so. "….uh…"

"What? What is it? Is something wrong?" Hazel panicked.

Kenta slowly removed his bone, staring at the door puzzled. "N-no, at least, I don't think so." He reached and touched the door. "The lock…it's just for show. I think the door is…" he gently shoved the door with his hand. It opened very easily and did not make a single sound. "…unlocked."

The door opened into a set of stairs that spiraled down out of vision and into the dark. They should have been relieved, but somehow, the friends were just unnerved. The door and stairs and dark all seemed too comfortable, all too ready to welcome them into its maw.

"Is…the door usually locked?" Hazel asked but stared into the dark.

"I don't know." Nix admitted. "I guess I was never the first through, and I never saw any guards open it. I guess I just always assumed…"

They stood there staring at the dark in silence for a few moments until a large echoing bang from several floors above them shook them into their senses. It was Hazel who first took a small breath and casually made her way through the door, unto the stairs. She turned to the others. "Well? Are you coming? The others are counting on us."

Nix and Kenta nodded and followed down the stairs.

Oh how the silence taunted them, how terrifying it was. Let all the spaces of the earth where we might find no solace from something as simple as sound be filled. The uncertainty haunted them an gripped their hearts in its icy black fingers, how they would have preferred the chaotic din of the rest of the House on the Hill.

And at last the spiraling dark ended and the way opened with the familiar and almost comforting dull red glow of the House. The room they were in now was large and domed, but there was actually very little to see. The inside was not furnished at all save for three long and thin metal troughs than spanned almost the entire diameter of the room. But it was the walls that caught their eyes. Not an inch of the rusted ceiling was not covered by holes. Simple and square, they were scattered all around in every direction. This was where the sentinels of the House gathered. This was the Durant's Hold.

"They all come from those openings." Nix whispered though it was clear they were the only people there. Still, better safe than sorry. "They lead all throughout the entire House. All the Wings and corridors, places I'm sure no one else have ever seen. Can you imagine what it must look like when they all swarm here?"

"We can admire architecture later." Kenta griped. "Hazel, where's the bottle?"

Hazel nodded and loosened the knot on her green scarf. It had been holding the small brown bottle to her body, the same bottle that Grant had gotten from the Infirmary. How long ago that seemed now. Nix took hold of it and approached the metal troughs in the center of the Hold.

The troughs themselves were smooth stainless steel, and all held a black sludge so much colder than the rest of the room that there was a visible mist coming off it. It also smelled like a Skunktank's bowel movement.

"Are you sure it's going to be enough?" Kenta asked.

"Just one drop of this stuff would be enough to knock out a raging Gyrados for a few hours." Nix said as she poured the contents of the bottle into each of the troughs walking along to spread it out. "We are using a little more than that. And don't worry; I've seen what this place looks like after 'dinner time'. The Durants don't leave a single drop of this stuff. Just as orderly as their master it seems." She said using up the last of the sedative. "Plus it seems that this particular brand has some nasty side effects if used without moderation." She smiled. "Oopsies!" she dropped the small glass bottle into the trough.

The black sludge quickly enveloped it and it sank. The last part visible before it completely disappeared was the skull and crossbones on the warning sticker. It seemed to gaze at them for just a second before it to was swallowed up.

"Great, that's done." Kenta sighed. "Now let's get out of here before something proves what Word said right."

And at that exact moment. They all heard the door to the hold high above them slam shut. Dramatically echoing in the circular room.

_THUD Thud thud thud _

Like a threat or a promise. More likely both.

And then they heard another sound, that came from all around them, above and below. The sound of thousands of tiny legs scuttling about in the walls and slowly making their way to where their food would be.

"No…no." Hazel whispered softly, tears building up in her eyes.

Kenta's eyes darted all along the holes in the walls from where the sound of the coming Durants echoed. "W-we gotta go. We gotta get to the door! LET'S MOVE DAMN IT!" he screamed, no longer caring what heard him and began to make for the stairs.

Nix stopped him, not physically, but with her voice which was calm and truthful, despite the growing danger. "That won't help. The door will be locked. Or maybe it won't even be there by now. They must lock it. Just before they come to eat." She stated staring at one of the holes in the walls in particular.

Kenta calmed, but he was no less afraid. "So that's it then. We're dead."

A few more tears escaped Hazel's eyes. For a few moments, just as they had done before, the three stopped and listened to the scuttling and clinking growing louder and louder.

"No. No you're not." Nix said a little louder this time.

Before either could say anything, Hazel and Kenta were taken up in the Blaziken's arms as she rushed over to the wall, to the same hole she'd been staring at. "Nix, what are you doing?" Hazel asked, though part of her already knew. Knew even before she put them in the tunnel entrance with a faded _13 _above it.

"I'm too big Hazel," Nix stated simply, "but you guys can make it."

"NO! WE'RE NOT LEAVING YOU!" Kenta screamed and attempted to get out of the hole before Nix's hand pushed him back in.

"Kenta." She said in a soft voice, her eyes starting to water. "It's okay. This will take you back to the Wing."

"We. Are. Not. Leaving. You." Kenta was not challenging. He was stating a fact.

Nix still looked at them both with soft eyes. "I know you won't." The sound of the coming bugs grew louder and louder. They could practically hear their mandibles clanking together.

"Tell Pins," Nix began, but stopped herself, not sure if she should say what she wanted to. "Tell him to keep fighting. To never give up. For me."

And then Nix Redfeather raised her leg and kicked. Hard enough to send Kenta and Hazel tumbling down the tunnel. Just before they lost sight of her in the dark, the saw the first Durants coming out of the holes, their metal jaws snapping in hunger.

**Stick a fork in it. **

**Cause this chapter's done. **

**Yep, I'm back baby, no if's and's or but's. Hopfully I'll be updating this story as often as I used to, but I won't make any promises. Thank you to all who are still dedicated to this story. You *sniff*, you guys are my rock. *Cry dramatically* **

**And for the lady readers out there: have a rose -'-,- **

**Guys don't get anything…Sorry dudes. **

**Crazy today, the Helpless Romantic **


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